#her actions are just so questionable like she was under a lot of stress so it makes sense

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF Movie Mike got mixed signals from Vanessa..

[kerink]

i want to talk about this idea the fandom has that curly didn't do anything to help anya. the fact of the matter is, curly didn't do anything to help anya on screen.

when we first join the conversation, anya's already told curly about the assault and is just updating him on her pregnancy status. we're never privy to what that first conversation looked like, what anya said or how curly responded or what decisions were made about it. but given that anya confided in him twice more about the situation (that she was pregnant and later that she had told jimmy), i have to assume his response to the initial assault disclosure was sufficient enough in her eyes that she knew she could continue confiding in him.

this exchange reads to me like "what to do about the assault" has been an on-going conversation between them, but curly has limited options to help her. but if he could figure out something to do, he'd do it.

let's look at the options available:

report it to HR. i don't think this option is very viable for a few reasons:

first, pony express doesn't seem to care about its employees. there aren't locks on their bedroom doors, there's only enough food and oxygen to get them from port to port with no emergency allotment, there are more crew than cryopods, they're not allowed to sleep for more than 5 hours a night, etc. i don't think they would have done anything to support her even if they had reported it.

HR may even blame anya for the assault, they may say that it happened because of something she did or did not do. it's her responsibility to take, not theirs.

second:

(thank you to @mudstoneabyss for pointing this one out to me)

curly needs this money because he's considering changing careers, which is likely to result in a pay cut or some amount of time job-hunting without income. swansea has a family back home he needs to provide for. it's daisuke's first year on the job and what a piss-poor welcome a pay cut would be, and he's an intern so the pay cut may be all or most of his salary. jimmy is living in poverty. anya has no savings.

it's entirely possible anya asked curly not to file an HR complaint not only because it would make her financial situation worse, but because she doesn't want to ask him, swansea, and daisuke to literally pay for jimmy's actions.

third:

even if curly did file an HR report he may have been told to do nothing. it's a long trip and they need all hands on deck to make the delivery on time! productivity over employee welfare. it's his job to keep the peace but keep jimmy working.

given how much stress curly's shown to be under, it can be assumed being captain is an extremely taxing job with a lot of both assigned duties and off-book duties. it may not actually be feasible to run the ship without a co-pilot.

maybe all he could do was talk to him.

2. go to the police. are there even police in space? i have to assume so because the alternative poses way too many questions. so there's space police. curly and anya call them and they come to the tulpar and dock on the ship and do an investigation and what happens to that limited food and air supply? the late delivery fee?

i'm a psychologist and my first psychology job was working as a crisis counselor for my county. my primary job was to sit with rape survivors as they had their rape kits done and support them as they made their reports to the police. this may not be true everywhere or across the board or in this dystopia but in my experience the police won't take a rape case seriously, or will have limited options to prosecute, or maybe won't even take the case at all without a rape kit.

so curly and anya call the police. they're going to have to file with HR too, to let the company know what's going on. and now anya has to pay for an HR complaint, a late delivery, and a rape kit.

is she going to get this paycheck at all?

3. curly acts on his own accord. this is the one that makes the least amount of sense to me, personally.

if curly just beats the shit out of jimmy then what? now jimmy's mad and embarrassed and takes it out on anya. we're going to confront him and risk making her suffering worse?

curly can't lock jimmy in his quarters for the duration of the trip not only because, as i said, maybe having a co-pilot is necessary for the ship to operate, but there are not locks on the doors.

curly can't lock him in the cargo hold because a) pony express would probably be beyond pissed off about that and who knows if the crew's pay would get docked or curly would get fired or if dragonbreath would sue them all for property damage and contamination. b) how do we get food and water to him? let him go to the bathroom? we open the doors and he busts out and who knows how violent he'll be then.

curly isn't going to kill him because a) that's one of his oldest friends, and i don't care what he's done or how angry curly is or how badly he wants to help anya, i really don't think it's realistic to think he'd be able to separate the anger from the love enough to end his life. b) it's cold-blooded, premeditated murder. it'd be one thing if curly caught jimmy in the act and killed him in defense of anya, he could maybe get away with that. but after the event is over? curly's going to jail for that, possibly for the rest of his life. if you worked at the post office and a coworker told you your best friend since childhood raped her are you clocking out and going to his house and killing him? it's not reasonable. i'm also just really floored how often i've seen this option brought up on the "prison reform abolish the police no matter how bad you are you still deserve human rights" website.

i also don't think it's reasonable, realistic, or kind to ask curly to act on his own accord without consulting anya. for curly to go against her wishes or act without her consent, that's further taking agency away from her. that's another man deciding what happens in her life. even if curly wanted to beat jimmy up or lock him away or kill him, maybe anya asked him not to.

so i ask, what was curly supposed to do? what did he and anya explore as options? what did anya ask him to do? we don't know and we'll never know. and that was intentional on wrong organ's part.

i don't say any of this to discount or discredit conversations or explorations or analyses about the role The Boys Club, toxic masculinity, and bro culture play into the plot, themes, narrative, or personal take-away players have. i fully 100% agree with, support, and endorse those narrative because despite everything i just said above, it's also true that curly is partially responsible.

it's true that he was irresponsible and an enabler for helping jimmy cheat on his psych exam, but there's no evidence at all that he's a conspirator to sexual assault and abuse, that he was going to cover for jimmy in a court of law. all he said was they would figure it out, and that could mean a whole lot of things.

i think curly has some percentage of the blame for what happened on the tulpar, i just don't think that percentage is as large of a number as a lot of people seem to believe. i'm not asking that we forgive or apologize or absolve curly, what i am asking is that we try to look at the situation with more nuance and empathy and good faith.

i don't think curly was a bad man or a bro who was ignoring anya and covering for jimmy's actions. but i also don't think he did enough to help her. he was never good at seeing the small details amongst the larger picture. he couldn't see jimmy for the dead pixel he was.

i think curly was sleep deprived, possibly under-fed, definitely overworked, and juggling too many balls with not enough options. i think he made the wrong choice, but i think he thought it was the lesser of the evils.

[girlgenius1111]

talk more

alexia is stressed upon return to the international stage after her knee issues. she has the most aggressive game of her life against you, and you end up injured. you're both not telling each other how much you're really struggling.

this contains a completely made up and illogical game, don't come at me

cw: contains descriptions of a panic attack

-----

Alexia was on edge, even more so than she had been when you'd left your shared apartment a week ago for England camp. She'd gone to Spain's camp, both of you preparing with your respective teams for the upcoming nations league matches.

Alexia was back from her persistent knee issues, with something to prove. You knew how your girlfriend's mind worked, and you knew she was putting a lot of emphasis on this game. It was why she'd been distant the past week, why she was avoiding eye contact with you as you both stood in the tunnel, preparing to go out onto the pitch.

You hadn't mentioned your own problems when you'd spoken briefly to her over the phone. They seemed inconsequential compared to hers. You were exhausted, incredibly stressed, and you felt like responsibility for the whole team rested on your shoulders, what with Millie and Leah both out. You and Mary had stepped up, and the weight of trying to live up to your captains' was crushing. Alexia did this all the time, though, you reminded yourself. There was nothing to complain about. Once this game was over, she would relax, and so would you.

As you walked out onto the pitch, you ignored the pang of hurt when Alexia didn't even glance her way. It was time to play, time to win, not time to worry about your girlfriend ignoring you. Soon, though, you were worried not just for her, but for everyone else on the pitch. Alexia was playing aggressively, and for the most part it was paying off for her. The ref was being incredibly inconsistent with calling fouls and giving cards, something Alexia was taking advantage of. After she practically shoved Tooney to the ground on a corner, you spoke up, annoyed with how reckless she was acting.

"Cool it, Alexia. You're gonna hurt someone." You said quietly, as you briefly jogged past her. She just looked at you, mouth still pressed into a hard line, barely acknowledging that you'd spoken. You sighed, knowing it was just a matter of time before she was the reason someone had to go off.

You didn't expect it to be you. In Alexia's defense, it was a mostly clean tackle. She caught your ankle, yes, but she had touched the ball first, making it clean. Your ankle crumpled under you, though, and you collapsed to the pitch in crumpled heap with a cry of pain. Alexia stood, looking down at you, horrified, as if only now just realizing the consequences of your actions.

She was shoved out of the way by your teammates, who quickly made their way to your side. She didn't go far, though, looking on, distraught, as your teammates called out for the physios, and you writhed on the ground in agony.

They appeared, asking you questions, and Alexia thought she was going to throw up when they called for a stretcher. How had she done that to you? What was wrong with her?

She stepped closer, hesitantly, trying to get your attention, whether to apologize or beg for forgiveness, she wasn't sure.

"Amor," she asked quietly. Your eyes flew to her above you, and your gaze hardened.

"No, Alexia. Go away." You said through gritted teeth.

"Okay. Lo siento, amor. Lo lamento." she said, backing up and chewing insistently on the side of her cheek. The stretcher arrived, and they got you on it. Every sound you made, every groan of pain, felt like Alexia's heart was being ripped out of her chest. She felt an arm on her shoulder, and turned to find Irene standing behind her.

"Go off, Ale, go with her. We're up anyway." It was true, Spain was winning, and there wasn't much time left. Her departure from the game likely wouldn't cause the team any issues. Still, she shook her head. You were being lifted up, carried off the field now. Alexia wanted to rush forward, wipe the tears off your face, kiss the grimace off your lips.

"No, she doesn't want me right now. I fucked up." Alexia choked out. Irene sighed, not really blaming you. Alexia had been playing like a crazy person today, like she had something to prove.

"Go anyway. You get her to forgive you by proving that you're sorry. So go." Irene insisted, and Alexia paused, before nodding and heading to the sidelines. She was subbed off, and she headed into the tunnel after you. She turned towards England's side, not quite sure how to find you. Luckily, Leah was standing in the hall, talking to a member of the staff. Alexia cleared her throat, and Leah turned towards her, clearly trying to keep her expression neutral.

"Where is she?" Alexia rasped.

"Hospital." Leah responded, voice hard.

Alexia sighed, a few tears escaping against her will. She normally would never, not ever, let an opponent see her cry. When it came to you, though, it was like she had no control over herself. Leah softened slightly at the sight.

"Come on, I'll drive you." The match was in London, and Alexia was glad she didn't have to wait an unknown amount of time to get to you.

"I do not think she wants to see me." Alexia admitted, despite following Leah towards the exit of the building.

Leah rolled her eyes. "All she's wanted for the past week is you, Putellas. And instead of giving her that, you break her ankle."

"What do you mean? She wanted me?" Alexia questioned, confused. You'd seemed okay with the distance she'd imposed on you, telling her you understood that she needed to focus.

They arrived at Leah's car, climbing in, and Leah began driving before she responded.

"She's having a hard time. She has this stupid idea that she needs to be just like Millie, or me, instead of being herself, which is why she was chosen to lead. She's stressed and exhausted, not to mention worried about you and your return. She needed her girlfriend, Putellas. More than anything."

The midfielder felt the last of her strength crumble, and she spent the rest of the car ride silently wiping away the tears that ran down her face. She would fix it, she promised herself. She'd do anything to fix it.

-----

Alexia wasn't at the hospital long. You'd asked Leah not to bring her to your room, and send her back to your apartment with your key instead. Your ankle was broken, it turned out. You were in a boot, on crutches, and miserable, that much Alexia knew. If you were furious with her, or just marginally angry, she didn't know.

She showered quickly, throwing on some of your clothes as she left her bag at the hotel the team was staying at, before settling on the couch, knee bouncing nervously. She wished the apartment was a mess or something, so she could clean it, but it was spotless. She'd already ordered dinner from your favorite restaurant, so she didn't need to cook. Leah texted her when they were downstairs, and she tried to swallow her anxiety as she heard the door open.

You hobbled in, Leah following with your bag. Alexia stood, taking a hesitant step towards you. You didn't even really look at her, crutching by her to sit on the couch. You threw your crutches to the ground, and put your head in your hands, the emotions of the day finally catching up to you. Leah placed your bag down carefully, shooting Alexia a glare, before she kissed the top of your head.

"Call if you need me, okay?"

"Okay," came your response, muffled by your hands.

Alexia moved your crutches to sit against the couch, before taking a seat on the coffee table in front of you.

"Amor, I am so so sorry."

"It was a clean tackle Alexia, don't apologize." You reply, voice emotionless. Your girlfriend shifted uncomfortably.

"I am still sorry. And I am sorry I was not available this week. I should have talked to you more."

"It's fine."

"You are not mad at me?" Alexia wondered. At this, you finally lifted your head out of your hands, looking at your girlfriend with bloodshot eyes, and a flushed face.

"I am mad. I just don't have the energy to be angry with you right now. I'm too exhausted, my ankle fucking kills, and I've missed you too much. It's pathetic." You cry, reaching a hand out towards the blonde. She doesn't waste a second, taking your hand in hers and pressing a few kisses into the back of it.

"It is not pathetic, amor. You need me, that is okay. You can yell tomorrow."

"I needed you all week," you say quietly, and her grip on your hand tightens.

"I know, amor, and I should have known that, and been there for you. I am here now, though, and I am not going anywhere. Not until you are better."

You looked at her through long, wet, lashes. "Promise?" you asked, voice cracking on the word.

"I promise, mi amor, I promise." Alexia assured you. You pulled on her hand, and she shifted onto the couch, bringing you into her lap, minding your ankle. You collapsed into her, face finding it's favorite spot nestled against her neck. You were getting her skin wet with tears, but she didn't seem to care. In fact, she seemed content to sit there with you until you felt better, no matter how long that took. You pulled away before you really felt much better, though.

"Where are you going?" Alexia asked with a slight pout.

"My ankle hurts," You admit, watching as her expression falls into one of immense guilt. She eases you off of her, back onto the couch, instructing you to stretch your legs out.

"Can I?" She asks quietly, hands hovering over the straps on the boot. It was a test, you knew, to see how angry with her you were, deep down. If you trusted her to take care of your injury or not.

"Be gentle." You ask quietly, and she sighs in relief, nodding. Alexia begins to unstrap the boot, lifting the front piece off before sliding it down and off your foot. You winced, the slight movement sending waves of pain up your leg that made you feel sick. Alexia dropped the boot onto the ground, watching carefully as you shut your eyes, willing the pain away. When you opened them, you noticed that Alexia was trying to discreetly wipe a tear away.

"Hey, what is it?" You ask, concerned, grabbing her hand before she could leave the room.

Alexia scoffs, but sits back down. "I broke your ankle. You are in pain because of me."

"Alexia, it was a clean tackle. I'm not mad that about it. It could have been anyone. I'm mad that you were playing like you wanted to get a red card, putting yourself and my teammates in danger." You explain.

"You are not mad about the tackle?" She asked incredulously.

"No, that would be stupid, that was practically your one clean tackle of the game. I'd like to talk about why you were playing like that, though." Alexia wasn't one to play super rough, and you knew that it was likely a result of some issue she was having. It was hard for you to get her to tell you what was going on in her head.

Alexia is quiet for a minute, working out her rather complex feelings of guilt at the moment. If you weren't angry about that, should she feel so furious with herself? The way she'd played was a whole other issue.

"Can we talk about it tomorrow? I want... I want to just be with you tonight. Take care of my girl." Alexia asked. You softened at her request, opening your arms, and gesturing for her to move closer. She leaned forward holding tight to you, inhaling your comforting scent. You were with her, and you were okay. That was all that mattered to her.

"Of course, baby." You murmured, kissing her temple lightly.

And take care of you, she did. She brought you dinner once it was delivered, and carried you into the shower, holding you up the entire time whilst you bathed and washed your hair, even though she'd already showered. She helped you into your pajamas, before getting your ankle propped up on a pillow, wrapped in an ice pack while you reclined on the bed. She stood anxiously next to your side of the bed, looking around as if searching for something else to do.

"Love, come get in bed." You told her, and Alexia focused on you.

"You do not need anything else?" She checked.

"Just you, pretty girl." You said sweetly. Alexia felt her cheeks heat up at that, and moved around to the other side to the bed. Before really getting to know Alexia, you would not have thought her to be a shy person. She was, though, shying away from any attention you tried to give her at first. Eventually, she got used to it, but she still felt her face flush with pleasure when you called her things like that.

Alexia climbed into bed, curling up into your side easily. She looked tired up close, almost as tired as you felt, and you leaned down, pressing your lips to hers. She sighed into the kiss, finally relaxing. When you pulled away, you couldn't help but notice the way her lips tugged down slightly, as if she was fighting a sad frown.

"What is it Ale?" You asked, running your thumb across her cheek.

"I am just tired. And sorry for hurting you, and ignoring you all week. And stressed about my return and my performance. My brain will not turn off. I am so tired, amor." Alexia said, eyes fluttering closed when your hand cupped her cheek.

"That is a lot of things to be worried about, Ale. I've forgiven you. I'm pretty sure I won't even yell at you tomorrow," Alexia smiles slightly at this. "Push all that out of your head. You're here with me, and everything is going to feel better in the morning. Sleep now, my love."

"Thank you. Te amo." She whispers in response, snuggling in closer to your side.

"I love you." You tell her, letting the feeling of her chest rising and falling against you lull you to sleep.

-----

You're rather unfortunately awoken a few hours later by a gasp, and Alexia stumbling out of bed and into the bathroom. You sit bolt upright, confused, watching from the bed as she grips the counter in her hands, breath ragged.

"Alexia?" you call out. You'd get up, but your ankle protests when you try to shift it off the pillow, so you stop moving, waiting for her to answer you. She doesn't acknowledge that you've spoken. She's speaking quietly to herself, eyes squeezed shut, and you strain your ears to hear her.

"Estás bien, estás bien," she repeats, white knuckled grip on the counter looking painful.

"Alexia," you say again, louder this time.

"Okay, amor, I... I am okay," she gasps out. She's having a panic attack, you realize. In all your time with her, you'd never known her to experience this before, and this realization is enough for you to grit your teeth, and try to get to her. You've swung your leg off the bed, biting your lip to keep from crying out, and grabbed for your crutches when she speaks again.

"St-stay there. No te levantes" Alexia says, switching rapidly between english and spanish.

"Come here then, please baby. Before I drag my ankle over there." You plead.

"No puedo," she whimpers, hand coming up to tug at the neck of her shirt, as if it's restricting her breathing. She's not moving anytime soon, and she looks like she's about to pass out if she doesn't get her breathing under control soon.

You curse under your breath, standing up and wobbly moving towards the bathroom. You make it to her, the blood rushing into your ankle once you stand, but you don't really feel it. The adrenaline has taken over, and your only though is helping your girlfriend.

"No-no puedo respirar," she gasps, eyes opening to find you in front of her. "No se que pasa, ayúdame," she pleads, gripping your shirt in her hand.

"Oh, baby," you coo, taking her hand in yours, and pressing it to your chest. "With me, love, you're okay."

She shakes her head frantically, gasping for air at this point.

"No puedo," she says again, before she pulls her hand away from yours, and begins tugging at her shirt again. "Lo necesito apagado, por favor," she cries.

Frustrated with your lack of mobility, and your shaky balance, you discard your crutches, and pull yourself up to sit on the counter. It's not much more comfortable, but you don't have to balance on one foot, and you can't help Alexia with your hands preoccupied with holding your crutches.

You help her pull her shirt over her head, leaving her in just a sports bra. She seems even more frustrated when that doesn't seem to help, and the tears are falling down her face fast, as her mouth flops open and closed as she tries to breath.

"Alexia," you say sternly, grabbing her face in between your hands. Her wild eyes meet yours, and you guide her closer, until she is standing in between your legs. "You're having a panic attack. You need to let yourself breath. Do it with me, okay?" Alexia's eyes are wide and glistening as she allows you to take her hand again, and press it back over your heart. Her breaths are choppy as she tries to match them with yours.

"There you go, Ale, you're doing good," you encourage, as her inhales begin to match yours more. You keep a tight hold on her hand until her breathing is almost normal. But as her hyperventilating ends, more tears replace it. "Alexia," you sigh, pulling her in. You hate seeing her so upset. You'd do anything to take it away, even if just for a minute. Her chin rests on your shoulder as she sniffles occasionally. You rub her back softly, giving her the time she needs to calm down. She jumps back suddenly, though, looking panicked again.

"Your ankle," she says, looking frantically between the swollen limb and your eyes.

"Shh, I'm okay, come back," you tell her, and she moves back into your arms, despite her protests.

"But amor, this is not-" Alexia's voice is weak and choked.

"Don't worry about it Alexia, seriously." You kiss her forehead, then her temple, before guiding her head back onto your shoulder. She relents, body falling almost limp against you. You're both quiet, the only sounds audible being both of your breathing. You bring a hand up to the nape of Alexia's neck, threading your hand through the hair there, and and holding her tightly against you.

You don't know how long the two of you sit there. Long enough for you to feel the pain in your ankle again, dangling off the counter. It was throbbing, hot and painful, under you. You don't want to let Alexia go before she's ready, so you try to bring you leg up, and rest in on the counter. At your movement, though, Alexia pulls away, pursing her lips as she looks at your ankle.

"Ale, it's fine," you try, but she ignores you. She's still unsteady, hands shaking as she grabs your crutches off the ground where she'd dropped them, and handing them to you.

"Bed?" she asks quietly, and you nod. She follows you back to the bed, a slow process, waiting until your sitting down before leaving the room without another word. You call after her, but she doesn't respond. You're just about to get up, and go after her, again, when she returns, ice pack in her still shaking hand. Regardless, she wraps it around your ankle, before climbing back into bed next to you. Her head finds it's place against your chest.

"What happened, love?" you ask. You feel Alexia's shoulder shrug. "No, come on. Talk to me, please."

"I was anxious when I fell asleep, and when I woke up, I could not breath. I think I had a dream, I did my other knee, and they told me I would not play again." The blonde's voice shakes as she speaks.

"That's awful, love." You murmur into her hair.

"I am sorry I woke you, and that you had to help me," she says weakly.

"Don't be. I'm glad I could help," you promise. "Have you ever had a panic attack before?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

"No."

"Alexia, I think you should talk to someone." You suggest, also pretty sure you know what her response will be.

"Maybe," she says noncommittally.

You sigh. "You at least need to talk to me more, Alexia. You can't just shut down when you're having a hard time, you need to let me help."

"I need to talk to you more?" she asks, turning her head to look up at you, voice a little stronger now. "You need to talk to me too then. You were upset all week and I did not know about it." She says it like she's got you. You surprise her, then, when you nod.

"You're right. We both need to talk to each other more. I know it's not easy, but I'm here, whatever you need, whenever you need me. Okay?"

"Te prometo que." Alexia says after a minute, gazing up at you. You can tell she means it. "You promise too?"

"I promise, Alexia."

Neither of you are perfect, or would ever claim to be. You are, however, perfect for each other. Exactly what the other needs. You know you'll get through anything with Ale with you, at your side.

-----

i love angst. that is all. goodnight.

[08melancholie]

Hi! First of all: love your writings! Somehow you manage to give me exactly what I want. I have read the lessen your stress one, amazing. Thank you. Lots of loves from the other side of the screen.

Now, I would like to request a one shot Micah/F!Reader (or GN reader if you want) where a really sweet and kind Reader likes Micah and actually wants to sleep with him but is a virgin and kind of shy, in contrast with the rough, brute Micah we all know, who will obviously want to sleep with reader too (either bc he likes them back or simply bc he’s desperate and wants sex, you decide, just please don’t miss characterize him too much, I like my Micah as the asshole he is :’) <3

Thank you very much and I really appreciate your work! <3 have a good day!

thank you sm for the compliments <33 and dw because i like to also keep my men just as scummy at times🙏

Some aspects might be similar to 'Untouched' here (still attached to that fic like a leech chat..) but i'll make sure it still sounds new!

Lose Some; Gain Some. — Micah Bell/Reader

tags: Smut, Porn, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Micah Bell Is His Own Warning, Virginity, Loss of Virginity, Vaginal Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Sex, Orgasm, Multiple Orgasms, Rough Sex, but just a bit at the end, its micah he doesnt know how to be gentle sorry guys, Not Beta Read, no beta we die like micah bell

summary: You would rather take over doing everyone's chores in camp forever, than ask the question thats currently been plaguing your mind; one of your lowest lows, probably. You were told that a woman's virginity is a precious thing, how you had to lose it to the right person. This, however, you found to be total bullshit. And you wanted nothing more than the man who was Micah Bell to do it for you.

a/n: first ask yippiee!! i am so busy with exams oh lord i barely made time for this😭 i hope its to your liking!!! second ao3 post today im on a roll actually🙏🙏

words: 3,201 | AO3 LINK

Still being a virgin at this age is almost laughable. Well, it is; the girls haven't stopped teasing you since you told them during a game Mary-Beth told everyone about. You had to answer the question asked by Karen—about your sex life—or drink. You answered that you were still a virgin, and a few of them laughed; haven't stopped making jabs at you since. It's almost irritating.

And, your irritation made you slip up—by saying you'd lose your virginity tonight.

"What!? Tonight? With who?" Karen immediately snapped her head in your direction and away from the fresh laundry she and you were folding. There go the consequences of your actions. Who the hell do you even say?

You put down your own laundry back into your lap. "Well," You'll either have to lie your ass off, or go for the truth; but you sure as hell were not going for the latter. "guy I met in the saloon while we were still in Valentine, we've been writing." Not too bad.

Karen chuckled, thankfully buying into your lie. "Well, ain't I happy for you! It's about damn time, anyway." She goes back to the chore, like yourself, and continues your previous conversation.

Let's think logically—or, as logically as you could—about this; you don't exactly trust finding a random man in a bar to do this with, so who is going to eagerly take your virginity? Who would you ask that wouldn't tell anyone in camp about it, keep it between you two for the exchange of taking it from you? Who would you want to take your virginity?

You thought about how sweet Arthur would be; how he'd probably understand and treat you right, talk you through everything while praising you for following his instructions so well. Or maybe Charles; A gentle giant that would worship you as should be, show you how everything is done while talking in that deep tone you love to hear.

And then your mind went completely south of the previous two. You thought about how greedy he'd be, touching and moving his hands all over your body, wanting to feel every crevice under his rough fingertips. How he'd see taking your virginity as a precious thing, how you were told growing up, something you wanted him to have—and also as the biggest ego boost ever. He'd probably be a complete tease, too, nor would he talk you through the process like the other two. He'd probably just go for it, no instructions as you scrambled for what you had to do while he—

Jesus Christ, that's the last person you should be even 'just considering'.

Micah Bell is NOT an option here; forget it. Even if the heat between your legs didn't agree with these terms, you would not give your first time to that bastard. He was just an egotistical, rude, mouthy degenerate. Why the hell was the thought of how poorly he'd treat the situation getting you so worked up? You're practically soaking your garments over this bastard; and that's a problem.

Oh, but it's so tempting; this, unfortunately, wasn't the first time you've caught yourself thinking of him, imagining him in bed—which is reasonably worse than the former. Could you refuse yourself this small want? When you think about it, he might be one of the only people here who'd jump to get intimate without question, seeing how he catcalls and flirts with most of camp; including yourself a few times. God, were you really going to do this? How would you even bring it up?

This was something you needed to think of on the way, because it was nearing nighttime and you'd probably lose him to the darkness in the outskirts of camp, where he's usually found. As soon as you finished folding the laundry, you excused yourself from Karen and went to find Micah, thinking over what you would say to him. You had a whole dialogue figured out by the time you spotted him smoking by Baylock, probably having gotten done tending to the horse after the job he went on today. You really had to just brace yourself and follow your little plan, while hoping it'll turn out how you envisioned it to.

He noticed you approaching while you were a few steps away, the nervousness in your body language not hard to make out; hands clasped together, eyes focusing everywhere but on his own, your steps almost reluctant. He raised an eyebrow at you while taking a drag from the cigarette. "Look who it is; worried I'mma bite 'ya?"

You were barely able to give a reaction to his words, your nerves making you go almost silent. "Hah, no.. no, I'm..." Come on! We practiced this six times already! As soon as your eyes darted to his own greyish-blues, you lost your goddamn ability to speak. For the love of God; get your shit together. "Listen; this is very hard for me to even say out loud." Well, it's a good start.

Micah's eyebrows furrow slightly, your sudden shyness compared to the usual quips you could muster up back to his flirting or teasing very abnormal. But, he doesn't comment on it, wanting to hear you out before he teased you further. "Go on then, girl." He speaks, tossing his cigarette elsewhere.

The embarrassment this will leave you in will be history. "Okay.. so, uh.. I need your help with something—let's say." Your words just make him more confused; speaking to him in these absurd riddles. "Would you just.. hear me out?"

The blonde man nods after a moment, folding his arms over his chest while leaning back on the tree. Okay, you can get the words out, trust yourself.

"Would you.. and it's just a one-time thing, may I add." You start, a blush creeping up your neck and to your cheeks as you tried to think of what you were saying; you were about to ask Micah to get intimate with you. Yeah, you don't think this low can be matched. Nonetheless, no giving up now. "Would you take.. take my uh.. virginity?" As soon as the words leave your mouth, you have to hold back from fleeing the scene. "Listen—I lied to the girls and I just.. fuck, it's you."

Micah's had a small smirk on his face, mostly directed towards your nervous and shy state, until the sentence finally left your mouth. His smile dropped and he assumed he heard you wrong. "What'd you say.? Would I take.. your virginity?" He repeats back to you, definitely sure he's heard you wrong. But as you slowly nod your head, unable to open your mouth any longer, his eyes slowly widen a little more, rubbing his chin in thought. "Well, goddamn. You're one bold 'lil thing, ain'tcha?" Here comes the teasing you envisioned.

You roll your eyes to the comment. "I don't need your comments, Micah. You in or not? I'll gladly find someone else." You threaten, biting your cheek. Don't make me find someone else.

He perks up at your empty threat. "Hey—no, don't threaten me now, doll," He leans off the tree and gets right in your personal space, hands on his gun belt. "you know I love to help a lady in need out." He purrs at you, looking down almost menacingly.

"Good," You murmur, the closer he got the more nervous it made you. "then.. it's settled." It's only when he stands right before you, hands running up from your outer thighs to your sides, that you start processing what you've gotten yourself into.

His hands glide over your waist, feeling you up through your shirt. "Surprised yer still untouched, many would love a little body like this in their hands." His words and the small squeeze to your sides send butterflies straight to your stomach; you could practically lose it right then and there. "But it's only little ole me that gets it, huh?" His claim is followed by a darkish chuckle, ringing in your ears. He stops his hands over your ribs and the underside of your chest, looking down shamelessly at the little cleavage your shirt provides. "Well then; my tent?"

It took him barely a few seconds to get you through the flaps of his tent, tying the canvas shut and making sure you've got the bit of privacy camp life can offer. It takes him even less time to shove you down to his cot, seating yourself on the mattress and looking up at him settling atop you, knees around your outer thighs. "Don't you look pretty under me like this." His hands cup around the underside of your jawline, thumbs running up and down the outline of your face. "So, ever kissed a feller?"

You raise an eyebrow at the question. "Not that much of a prude." Your quick response gets a gruff chuckle out of him for a brief moment, before he'd leaned down and captured your lips with his, setting a nice and quick pace for the kiss. You return it with just as much swiftness, hand reaching for his belt buckle and gripping it, earning an appreciative sound out of Micah. "Good girl," His tongue swipes over your bottom lip, trying to enter your mouth rather quickly; but you don't complain, quickly complying. He gets himself an immediate taste of you, tongue swirling around in your mouth as if mapping out the contour of the body part. He goes back to exploring the rest of your body with his hands, moving them all around your sides and waist before stopping at the hem of your shirt and breaking away from your mouth briefly. "Let me see what I'm workin' with, doll." You breathe in the air that the kiss knocked out of you for a moment before wordlessly nodding, lifting your arms up for him to slide the shirt off, peeling it away from your torso and arms as you're sat almost bare from the stomach up now, only covered by your bra. Your shirt is tossed elsewhere, and he goes back to appreciating the view in front of him—or well, under him.

"Oh, you're perfect, little lady." He doesn't hesitate to reach his hands to your chest almost immediately, cupping you through the bra while running his thumbs on the upper flesh that was exposed. His fingers are as calloused as you envisioned, as if moulding your soft flesh with every swipe of his digits on your skin. He knows his way around your body, probably from the experience you lack. One hand stops groping you and moves to your back again, fiddling with your bra before unclasping it. Why is it that your shyness is only hitting you now? As soon as he starts moving your bra straps down to reveal your bare chest to him, you finally process that he's about to see you nude, and you definitely show some signs of reluctance. He notices your sudden demeanour change and looks from your chest to your eyes. "Come on, I don't judge, princess. Bet you're realll purty under here." His finger slips between your cleavage and hooks to the middle of your bra that connects the two pieces as he tugs at the material, slowly moving it away from your bare chest. It slips off your shoulders and arms, and you feel like a prey being inspected by it's hunter under that dark gaze Micah's blues hold. "Like I said.. damn beautiful."

Your shyness and nerves don't pass him by, and he doesn't want you to feel uneasy while he gets what he wants, so he decides to try and ease you up with another kiss, leaning up and snaking one hand to the back of your head to pull you in while the other went to your jean button, undoing it before moving to the zipper. The kiss definitely helped calm you a bit, your hands on his shoulders now as you clung to his shirt, kissing back with a small hum in your throat. He works your zipper down and hooks his fingers into your waistband, breaking the kiss again. "Lift your hips real quick," When you comply, he pulls your jeans down and you help him by kicking them off when they reach your ankles. His hand finds itself right between your legs, swiping at your still-clothed and warm entrance to find you just as aroused as he was. "damn, lookat'chu. Surprised a lady sweet as you'd be this wet over fuckin' a bastard like me." You almost moan at his comment, your garments definitely as damp as you felt them between your legs, drawing your shyness and embarrassment to a whole new level.

He leans away from you to strip his jeans off, first unclasping his gun belt and placing it over to where your shirt was, slowly moving into unzipping and undoing any other restraint that stopped him from getting naked. He looks to you—just watching him strip his pants off—and chuckles briefly. "Well? Get them panties off, sweetheart. Ain't need experience for that." You snap your eyes away from the small peek of a happy trail on his stomach that you, shamelessly at that, were staring at and stand up momentarily to slip your undergarments off, tossing them just shy of the other articles of clothing. "Mm, good, good.." He hums, letting his jeans drop before wasting no time with his drawls, slipping them off and freeing the leaky, visibly throbbing erection that was hidden in it. Your eyes scan over the length; it doesn't look too big, you can probably take it...

But where many assume Micah lacks in length—he makes up for in thickness.

He positions you to turn and bend over the cot slightly, hands on the mattress and back slightly arched. He's moving you around like a doll, positioning you to his liking. He lets out a small whistle when he's got you exactly how he wants you. "Ain't often I get a chance to do this type of thing... Almost feels like an early birthday gift." He chuckles while running one hand down your spine and moving to your hip, stroking himself with the other. He swipes two fingers over your entrance—earning himself a small moan—and uses it, mixed with some of his precum, to moisten his member up. "Now, might hurt a bit, ain't gonna lie to 'ya." You knew that much, mostly why you were adamant to the idea of sex for a while, but it can't be that bad, can it? "But we'll try to keep calm, eh girl?" He punctuates his last sentence with a squeeze to your hip before his tip slides between your warm folds, slickening himself up some more while he rubs his cock just shy of your entrance—unable to help himself from teasing you some. You let out a plethora of meek moans and huffs, your cunt itching for him to just ease it in. After a moment, he stops his tip at your entrance, ready to slide in. "I'mma go slow, try to make it.. durable for 'ya."

There's definitely a small stretch mixed into the overwhelming feeling of your walls being filled by Micah's thick shaft, clenching around him as you sigh and gasp to every inch filling you. "Shh, you're alright.. look," He reaches one hand over around you, two fingers pressing to your clit and making slow circles on it. Your sighs turn into small moans again. "Yeah.. good, focus on ma' hand, baby." He hums, slowly starting to bottom out into your pussy. His hips meet your rear as he continued to rub over your nub, giving you a brief moment to adjust before he pulls out to the tip—then slides right back in. The pain isn't as bad as people made it out to be, but some have a higher pain tolerance either way. You do your best to focus on the sensation Micah's rough fingers are playing on your clit, more than the way his cock slams into you and creates an almost echo-ey sound of skin-on-skin slapping, filling the tent with the suggestive melody.

The repetitive motion of his dick brushing your gummy walls has you on cloud-nine; you're gasping and moaning, letting his name slip past your lips in a pitched tone, grasping fistfuls of the sheets underneath you as his pace slowly gets faster per thrust. "Don't think it's smart I cum inside," He chuckles, punctuating himself with another slam of his hips into your ass, followed by your sweet little whine, almost like a protest. "you want me to?" He asks curiously due to your whine, and his grin gets so much wider when you nod your head, and his pace turns relentless. He starts fucking into you how he likes, trying to get himself to cum while rubbing you faster to get you there with him. "Can't wait to feel you clench this pretty cunt around me," He purrs with a small kiss to the nape of your neck before his focus is back on fucking his throbbing cock into you, getting himself closer by the moment.

You feel your own orgasm start to approach, your legs slightly jittery from the upcoming feeling. Micah takes quick note of this change and rubs your clit faster, drawing more whiny moans out of you that get muffled by the action of burying your head into the mattress; last thing you need is someone hearing you moaning Micah's name. Your whines are breathless and abrupt, getting cut off by each of Micah's quick thrusts into your cunt, all until you finally feel yourself tip over the edge and you cum, the clench of your pussy around Micah enough to get him there just a moment after you. He buries his cock deep into you, holding you up from collapsing into the bed by the hips as his chest makes contact with your back, the side of his head on the very top of your torso as he gasps breathlessly. "Ah.. there we go.." You can feel him empty himself inside you, your shaky legs barely supporting you with Micah doing most of the work.

He gives himself a moment before pulling out and placing you down to lay on the cot. "Let me tell you somethin', darlin';" He gets his underwear and jeans off the floor, slipping into both before leaning over you to whisper into your ear. "This definitely ain't 'gon be a one-time thing—not with how addicting that cunt is, or with how 'ya love to scream my name." He purrs lowly while clasping his gun belt back up, running a hand down your spine and stopping at your ass with a firm squeeze before moving you to lay more comfortably on his bed. "Well, get comfortable, think I'm up for a smoke.." He lazily tosses a random blanket in his tent over you—it's the thought that counts, apparently—before leaving you in his tent to rest up.

And you agree; he's addicting, and you will be fucking again.

Kudos on AO3 very appreciated!! we love the micah smut where hes still an ass to us <3

[gingersmidge]

We don’t have a lot of information on the beast cookies before they corrupted, but I still feel the need to ask..

Did they ever grow up? Did they get to grow up and live a little before getting their power (like the ancient heroes), or were they just sort of made ready to help and guide the cookies by the witches?

Spoilers ahead. TLDR at the end.

The answer is probably the second option, but I still ask because I feel like that could be part of why they corrupted so easily (for the most part).

Think about it, Burning Spice Cookie got so bored of watching the cycle of civilizations over and over that he decided to destroy them himself. (I’ve seen some great theories about it being deeper than that, but I’m going off of what we’ve been told in-game).

Shadow Milk Cookie learned what lying was. That’s the only info we have so far, but it probably isn’t more complicated than that.

Mystic Flour Cookie broke under the pressure of cookies constantly wanting their wishes granted and then getting mad at her when she didn’t/couldn’t.

2/3 of the beast cookies we have had a simple evil backstory, so what? Well, remember the question I started off this post with? Imagine this, you are just born into the world, and suddenly you’re expected to guide civilization to be the greatest it can be. You’re given an immense amount of power, people adore you and admire your every word. But alongside that, you have an immense responsibility to not screw it all up. Everybody has their eyes on you and what you do constantly, you have the weight of an entire society on your shoulders. To top it all off, that’s all you’ve ever known about life. You never got to live for yourself and make you your own person and make meaningful memories and relationships. Your friends who were made for the same reasons as you will probably be the only friends you’ll get because they’re the only ones who’ll truly understand you and see you as an actual person. That alone is enough for a villain backstory.

And then there is the ancient heroes, who got to live as regular cookies before getting the soul jam. They got to experience life for what it really is and really should be. They learned first-hand why life was precious and what they were fighting for. They made and ruled kingdoms, which is stressful, but they got the choice to do that. The beasts never did.

I think that the beasts only ever knowing responsibility and pressure along with never being treated as people certainly helped in them being corrupted so easily. I think that it took Mystic Flour Cookie being pushed to the edge to corrupt was because her power is volition and willpower. Remember, resolution was half of that power.

While this doesn’t excuse their actions, it certainly helps to explain them.

TLDR; I believe that the beasts backstories have been simple so far is because them being made for the sole purpose of guiding society and without ever getting to live for themselves contributed to them becoming evil.

[kenmjiro]

𖦹⭑ What are we? (TR)

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ Summary: you two do things as couples even so you are not sure whether you are dating or not.

⋆⸜ 🎧✮₊˚ Character: Baji, Kazutora y Chifuyu

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ Kazutora

and if...?

And if you like it? What if there's more to it than just being friends? But what if there isn't? What if it was natural for you to be like that with a “Friend”?

Kazutora only had a few people next to her. And you were one of them. He was really happy when someone like you, who was probably sent by God, was willing to be friends with him. You accepted him for who he is despite his past.

You see, being your friend is fun and memorable. But, the more time they spend together, the more confusing it is for him.

Sometimes, you will hug him while watching a movie at home. There are times when he will say goodbye with a kiss on the forehead when it is time to part; which honestly surprises him too. And, every time you two meet, you would surprise him by hugging him from behind.

These actions honestly make his poor heart swell. He knows that these things are not what “Friends” do. It is not the same as what he sees in what “normal” friends do.

Here she is with him, walking in the park. However, all of these things were bothering Kazutora. His brain almost goes blank at whatever he's talking about. The only thing going through your mind is whatever is going on between the two of you.

“So that's why I told him he won't crawl,” he says as you continue to rant at him as the two of you walk.

You noticed that Kazutora was no longer by your side. He was there, left in his path, standing as if he were in deep thought.

Realizing there was something, you walked towards him and snapped your fingers in front of his face.

“Kazutora,” you said, your voice louder than usual.

“Do you like me?” He said. He was surprised by what he said too.

You looked at him perplexed. Kazutora facepalmed as he pulled the question out of nowhere. So he decided to continue with what he just started.

“Well, here goes nothing” He thought.

“I mean, Y/n, I know we're friends. And you probably only see me as one. But not me. You make me feel things. And, just… What are we?” Kazutora asked, his ears turning red as he anxiously awaited your response.

You walked towards the man, hugging him and smiling at him.

“Well, we are whatever you want us to be,” you said.

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ Baji

Baji is a trustworthy man. Although he can be quite foolish at times, he knows that he can keep everything under control the way he wants. After all, he is not the captain of Toman's first division for nothing. He believes he can pull anything with ease.

Except for his relationship with you.

Having met by accidentally choosing the last peyoung yakisoba available, you and baji immediately connected. From then on they got together during their free time.

He would come to your house to rant about how stressed he is dealing with Toman. Sometimes he stops by just to say hello and bring you your favorite snacks. On weekends he would knock on your door and invite you to join him on walks.

And between those moments there are moments when your touch lingers longer than it's supposed to. When they walk together he would notice how he grabs her hands. When he rants he'll notice how your eyes shine with interest even though you have no idea what he's talking about.

and that confuses Baji a lot.

Well, sure you two are friends. But are friends supposed to hold hands? Are you supposed to feel empty when your friend isn't around? Are friends supposed to make you feel like butterflies are bursting out of you? your stomach when you see her smile?

All this makes Baji's head hurt so much just thinking. Much more than when he was solving his math problems.

And to solve that headache, he knows there's only one way to find out.

While the two of you were taking your evening walks, Baji randomly asked the question. It's not like he wasn't nervous about it, but he just wanted to get rid of what's been bothering him for quite some time.

“Y/n, what are we?” Baji asked.

“Uhmm, Friends?” You responded confusingly.

"Good. Friends” Baji said, his lips pursed as he looked at your hand holding his.

“Wait, sorry for asking this but, do you like me?” you said, trying to hold back your laughter.

“Wait so… I mean no, but yes?” Baji responded confusedly. “Look Y/n, I like her more than a friend. And that…” he pointed to your hand “confuses me.”

“I like you too, idiot. Why do you think I agree with all your plans?” You responded, flicking his forehead.

Baji locked himself in his arms. He smiled widely as if he was about to have his first peyoung yakisoba of the day.

I guess, after all, math is the only confusing thing in his life.

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ Chifuyu

Was it bad that he sometimes used shoujo mangas as a guide for his life?

It's not like she can ask anyone about it. As much as she would like to ask Takemichi she didn't want to be a bother. But he's not like Mikey, nor would anyone from Toman be of any help.

So here he is, burning all his neurons trying to understand his relationship with you.

You and Chifuyu have been friends for a while. You were Hina's classmate, whom she sometimes brings with her when she needs to accompany Takemichi. And she accompanies Takemichi, he will also be there. You two became instant friends and also acted as Hina and Takemichi's third and fourth wheels.

Surprisingly, you two became instant friends. Most of the time, you two would talk about the most random things. From piercings to your favorite band, your favorite sleeves, etc. These conversations would continue over the phone. Often. through text messages or calls that would last until 3 to 4 a.m.

There were also good morning and good night messages between us. And things like “What are you doing?” or “What are you eating?”

What surprises him is that he found himself eagerly awaiting your answers. And when you fell asleep and forgot to say goodnight, he often felt sad.

More than this, sometimes you asked him to accompany you when you needed to run some errands. And I would not hesitate to comply.

The same goes for him. You were instantly his first choice when it came to inviting someone to watch a movie or eat with him.

Chifuyu is aware that this friendship could turn into something more, but what if she's reading this wrong?

He keeps asking himself: Does he really have to ask you? Of course chifuyu, you like it. But are labels really important? What if this is all being friends means to you? Wait, what if you're already dating?

Chifuyu wanted to slap herself for the last question. Surely, if you're dating, he would have asked you out first. That's how it's supposed to work, right? or at least in what he reads.

So he was, thinking of a way to open up to you. Currently, you are sitting in front of him eating your ramen.

He honestly doesn't believe he can do this.

“Y/n-chan, are we dating?” The words flew out of his mouth at random. Apparently, his mouth started working before his brain.

Choking on your food, you were surprised that he decided to cross that topic.

Chifuyu, who was also surprised, suddenly began to apologize.

"I'm sorry. I really am. “It’s not my intention” You interrupted him.

“Well, do you want us to do it?” you asked.

"That?"

“You asked me if we were dating, right? I mean, do you want us to?” Because I like you. And not just what I like for friends” you said looking at the poor blushing boy.

Chifuyu, who was about to cry and burst into happiness, suddenly hugged you from across the table.

“'Chifuyu, what are you-”

"Yeah. I really like Y/n-chan. “I want us to go on a date.” he said, with tears in his eyes.

“I know chifuyu. “Now let me finish my ramen first, okay?”

He nodded.

Maybe it was worth reading all those shoujo mangas after all.

[spnjediavenger]

It Won't Last Forever (Chapter 4)

Title: It Won’t Last Forever (Chapter 4)

Type: multi-chapter; father!Hotch x teen!daughter!reader, some bau x teen!reader (platonic!)

Warnings: canon-typical Criminal Minds sadness 

POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNINGS: mentions PTSD and panic attacks; BEGINNING OF SELF-HARM! 

Spoilers: S5 SPOILERS

Notes: The PTSD and panic attack descriptions are a mix of my own experience and some I read online - this is not how ALL PTSD and panic attacks are experienced.

The Container Exercise is a real thing, one of my past therapists actually walked me through it and i love it

EMDR is an actual method of therapy and it works for some and not for others, it's also very dependent on person and situation; this is taken from my own experience and doesn’t reflect everyone’s

Y/n/n is a general nickname, N/n is a nickname only Spencer uses for Y/n

As always, love and/or constructive/friendly criticism is welcome and encouraged!

Word count: 2048

<- (Chapter 1)

<- (Chapter 2)

<- (Chapter 3)

Alaric Hurchinson wrote: “Being under stress is like being stranded in a body of water. If you panic, it will cause you to flail around so that the water rushes into your lungs and creates further distress. Yet, by calmly collecting yourself and using controlled breathing you remain afloat with ease.”

“Jack is hiding in my dad’s office…and I grab the gun in his desk,” Y/n’s shaky voice narrates.

“What do you feel?”

“I feel a lot of things.”

“Pick one emotion and go with that.”

“Scared. I feel scared.”

“Ok. Go with that.”

This is how EMDR typically went during the sessions for Y/n. They would walk through parts of her trauma, and she would be directed through her thoughts and feelings while a small buzzer in each hand took turns vibrating. 

Y/n had been going to therapy for a few weeks now. She went twice a week as her PTSD was fairly severe and impacted her daily life. Her dad went to every session he could and when he couldn’t, one of the team took his place so she was never alone. 

She was making progress slowly but surely; there were still always times, however, when it became too much outside of therapy.

“Y/n, do you remember the container exercise Peggy taught you?” The girl vigorously nodded. “Ok, think of what you imagined. Can you do that for me?” She nodded again. “What does it look like?”

“Ju-just a box. Like a shoebox. It-it doesn’t have any markings. It’s just brown.”

“Ok good. Now, all these thoughts you’re having, the memories, imagine putting them in the box, ok?” Another nod. “How do you seal the box?”

“I use duct tape around all 4 sides…so nothing can slip through any cracks. Then around like using ribbon on a gift.” Her voice was much calmer now, and her breathing had slowed as well. 

Rossi reached a hand up to wipe the stray tears from her cheeks. Y/n leaned forward to rest her forehead on his shoulder and let out a big sigh. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. 

The man kissed her head and wrapped his arms around her. “Anything for you, bambina.”

“I’m tired of this, Dave,” Y/n said against him.

“Tired of what, Y/n/n?”

“I’m tired of having these panic attacks…I’m tired of the nightmares and the anxiety and the stupid tears!” Y/n leaned away from Rossi and angrily wiped at her eyes, her demeanor seemingly taking a 180. “I thought I was getting better but here I am crying again after another stupid flashback!”

Rossi gently grabbed her hands and pulled them away from her reddening face, trying to keep her from hurting herself by her actions. “Hey, take it easy on that beautiful face, alright?” When that didn’t get a smile, he sighed and held her hands. “Kiddo, healing isn’t linear. I know it’s hard and no one wants to go through any of this, but it’s inevitable. So as unfortunate as it is, all you can do is go with it. And keep fighting. Ride the waves that are crashing over you. Stand strong in the face of fear. You’re strong. I know you are. The question is: do you believe it?”

The girl’s eyes filled with tears again and she looked down at her hands. “No,” she whispered. She looked back up at the older man. “And I know you’re going to argue and say that I am, that I’ve made it this far, and you’ve known me all my life and that you know for a fact that I’m strong and brave and can do this but there’s no proof! I’ve never dealt with this before! What proof do you have that I can do something I’ve never done before? To beat what I’ve never faced?! I can’t do this anymore!”

Y/n stood and ran to her room, slamming the door behind her. Rossi stayed in the living room and sighed, shaking his head.

“Uncle Dave?” a small voice sounded. 

Rossi rose his brow and turned around, gaze softening and mouth turning up in a small smile. “Hey, Jack. What’s wrong?”

The young boy came from around the corner. 

“Is Y/n sad again?”

Rossi smiled sadly and sat on the couch, pulling the boy onto his lap. “Yeah, buddy, she is.”

“Why?”

Rossi sighed and wracked his brain for a way to get Jack to understand. “Jack, do you remember how you were sad about your mom when she went to heaven?” Jack nodded. “Well, because Y/n is older…and she experienced some other hard things at the same time…she feels sad about it now instead. Do you understand?”

Jack thought for a moment and nodded his head. Rossi smiled and patted his back. 

“Is there anything we can do to help her feel better?” he asked innocently. Rossi’s smile widened at that. 

“You’re a great brother, Jack. All you can do for now is act normal. And be there if Y/n wants to talk to you. But for everything else, let your dad, and me, and your aunts and uncles help her, ok?”

The young boy nodded again and went back to his room. Dave watched him go and thought of what a wonderful child Hotch was raising. 

Hotch turned the lights off in his office and shut the door as he walked out. He went down the stairs, glancing around the bullpen at the empty desks, not surprised to see that his team left at the first chance they got so they could enjoy as much of the weekend as they could. But what did surprise him was that one person was still there, sitting at their desk, reading. Hotch furrowed his brow and slowed at the agent’s desk.

“Reid?”

The doctor jumped a bit and turned to see Hotch standing next to his desk. “Hey, Hotch.”

The unit chief took a moment to glance at the small pile of books on Reid’s desk and tilted his head a bit.

“Jellyfish: A Natural History, Stem Cells For Dummies, Mythology: Timeless Tales of Gods and Heroes? A bit far from your usual reads aren’t they? Seems like these should be on Y/n’s shelf instead.”

“I um, well she- she’s been calling me a lot recently to- to help with her panic attacks; more than usual.” When he saw the change in Hotch’s expression, he was quick to continue. “I swear she said she was going to tell you, sir - I-I wasn’t trying to hide anything. I promise she said she was going to tell you. So I was just focusing on helping her calm down and there are only so many things I can talk to her about that she understands and she said that anything helps b-but I wanted to pick some things I know she’s interested in to maybe make it better so I picked these up at the library for maybe the next time she calls. Not that she won’t go to you, I mean. I just-”

“Spencer.”

The younger man stopped his rambling quickly. Hotch never called him by his first name. “Sir?”

Hotch’s gaze softened. “Thank you.”

Reid nodded silently. Hotch patted him on the shoulder and left. He had accepted a little while ago that he may not always be the most equipped to help with Y/n’s attacks, he might not always be there for them, and that sometimes she might find more comfort in the others. He appreciated every member of his team - his family, for helping his little girl; who he couldn’t wait to get home to.

When Hotch got home, Rossi filled him in on everything that happened before leaving. Hotch frowned and nodded. 

He said hello to Jack first then went to Y/n’s room, gently knocking on the door before entering. He found the teen on her bed, facing away from the door. 

“Hey, honey,” Hotch greeted softly. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Crying. What else would I be doing?” she said matter-of-factly, a small sniffle coming after. 

“Well, Dave said you had a rough day. It happens,” Hotch said, taking a seat at the edge of Y/n’s bed. 

“I have a rough day every day. This one is no different. That’s all that happens. I have a rough day, I cry, I go to sleep, then do it all again the next day.”

Hotch sighed quietly and put a hand on Y/n’s shoulder, running his thumb back and forth as a comforting gesture. “Sweetheart, PTSD is a difficult thing to go through. Healing will have its ups and downs.”

Y/n huffed and sat up abruptly to face her father. “But I’m not experiencing ups anymore! Only downs! I thought I hit rock bottom but it seems like I’m going down even further!” she shouted, beginning to grip her hair tight in her hands. Her breathing became heavier and Hotch went to gently grab her hands but she pushed him away. “And I’m done with all the pep talks and hearing about how ‘strong I am’ and how ‘these things happen’ but no one has proof of any of it! I’m losing my mind and my life is miserable because of this and it’s not fair!”

“Look, I know you’re angry. And it’s understandable. And I know it seems never ending but I promise it won’t last forever, Y/n.”

“Please stop saying that! Just stop! You can’t prove that! I can’t keep fight-fighting like this!”

“Honey, take a deep breath, ok? Don’t worry about the future, stay right here, ok?”

Y/n pushed her dad’s hands away again, grabbed her phone, and stormed out of her room and to their backyard. 

Hotch sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 

“Hey, N/n,” Spencer’s voice came through Y/n’s phone. 

“T-talk to me,” Y/n panted. “Please.”

Spencer didn’t waste a second. He went into an info dump about jellyfish from what he read earlier that day. 

Y/n leaned against the wall of her house and slowly sunk to the ground, rocking on her ankles when she reached it. She grabbed a rock from the ground and clutched it in her hand, her anger pushing through the anxiety as her mind calmed down and breathing slowed. She squeezed tight and relished in the feeling she got from the pressure until a sharp sting erupted for a moment on her palm, making her gasp and drop the rock. 

Spencer caught the sound immediately. “Y/n? Are you ok? What happened?”

Y/n opened her shaky palm and stared at the fresh cut on it.

“Y/n, are you ok?” Spencer repeated. 

“I’m…I’m fine… I’ll text you later, Spencer.” 

The girl hung up and stood from her spot on the ground. She peered through the back door to make sure her dad wasn’t in the immediate area and snuck inside and into the bathroom to clean her hand. As she ran it under water, she found she didn’t mind the sting it gave. It distracted her from her emotions. 

Y/n turned the sink off and just stood there, eyes wandering around the bathroom until she opened the medicine cabinet for ointment and a bandaid. She patched the cut up and returned the items; but before she closed the doors, her eyes caught sight of her razor she kept in there. Her eye trained on it for a long moment as the cut on her hand stung under the bandaid…and the gears in her head turned. 

“Y/n? Are you alright, honey?” Hotch called from the other side of the bathroom door. 

The girl’s head snapped in surprise. She pulled her hoodie sleeve down low and opened the door. 

“Fine,” she said quickly. “I’m going to bed.”

“Alright…I love you, sweety,” her dad said, placing a kiss on her head. 

“Love you too.”

As she walked towards her room, she crossed her arms so she could feel the presence of the razor under her sleeve.

“You may encounter many defeats, but you must not be defeated. In fact, it may be necessary to encounter the defeats so you can know who you are, what you can rise from, and how you can still come out of it.” Maya Angelou. 

[girderednerve]

well now that i have done the background reading, i went to see nosferatu (2024). frankly i did not especially care for it

i thought it was visually dull most of the time, but i liked the last two shots in the movie. there are a lot of wide pans, which are fine? i'm not opposed to them in principle, & i am certainly not a film studies major or anything, but some of what i found so visually interesting & successful in nosferatus '22 & '79 is the interesting use they make of the fixed shot: the camera will set up somewhere that doesn't immediately seem striking, only for action to move into or out of the frame in a way that makes you think about the direction of the camera (or that is what i thought about). the long pan stands out in an era of short shots, but it didn't really do much for me, it didn't make me think about movie magic, i didn't see what it was asking me to think about. perhaps this is a function of my own limitations as a viewer & the close contrast i am making with movies that were made, like, fifty to a hundred years ago. after watching nosferatu (1922), the vivid, dreamlike color in nosferatu (1979) is compelling, fascinating, innovative even; nosferatu (2024) just felt dark & washed out, although there is a scene where ellen's friend anna stands in her house holding a candle that i thought was lit nicely.

it seemed to me that one of the main questions this movie asks is 'what if dracula (1992) kept those sex scenes but without taking off gary oldman's makeup?' & i wasn't particularly compelled by this question. i found it sort of crass, i guess? i don't think ellen's scenes with orlok had more depth or clarity or poignancy than the scenes between dracula & lucy did in nosferatu (1979). i think perhaps this movie was also asking about social stricture; some of the most striking images in nosferatu (1979) come from lucy's walks through town, seeing people dancing and feasting next to loose farm animals and corpses in the street. (also the image, shared in both earlier nosferatus, of men carrying lines of coffins; they did a pallbearer scene, but it was close-up & not especially interesting.) we see scenes of social dissipation, but mostly characters walk through them, & the camera doesn't dwell; instead, we see interpersonal dissolution. thomas' friend friedrich becomes miserly & dictatorial towards his friends under the stress of sleeplessness & plague; after his wife & daughters die, he visits their tombs to die, in a creepy scene that i thought was like, a sort of interesting addition, although i don't think it quite landed for me. willem dafoe shouting about being blinded by the enlightenment was fun. i think my favorite thing original to this movie was that horrible scene between ellen & thomas, where she tries to explain her past connection to orlok & then they have misery-sex, but i still didn't think it really delivered on concept; lily rose-depp is fine? despite how much time we spend with thomas, the movie doesn't give him enough space to let us see why & how he loves his wife. in my opinion. they've both been victimized by orlok in a sexualized way & don't really talk about it, which i found disappointing because this is a movie with a lot of talking.

the other major thing i noticed that was original to this adaptation is the insistent interest in contracts, compacts, covenants, oaths; it's a very legal way to talk about vampires. thomas (under duress & without counsel) signs a contract he can't read, which signs his wife over to orlok; orlok treats this document as enforceable, & ellen resents him for signing it. knock mentions contracts a bunch. orlok is a demon, a leashless hunger, who was summoned by a young ellen's desire for comfort, a sort of contract—this movie really was more indebted to the exorcist (1973) than i expected, & i didn't really like it. i don't think it's bad per se i just didn't like that choice very much.

miscellaneous thoughts: the rats were cute; the horses were extremely (& obviously, lol) well-coached; i liked the costumes a great deal; i wish this had done more with being a christmas movie, i thought that had potential; i liked the scene between ellen & anna, that friendship felt genuine; i hated the corset thing, i thought it was cliché; the manuscript pages were gorgeous, probably my favorite thing in the film (predictably haha).

[greekceltic]

FAQ Page

She/her | 38 | I like cats and rain. My comic: https://catswaycomic.com/ My Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/greekceltic My Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/greekceltic Other links: https://linktr.ee/greekceltic Sorry in advance if you send me a message and I don't get back to you, I tend not to stress over messages/asks. I do try to read them though, and I'm always open to being asked questions about characters or my headworld/stories. I am already aware that my art is being copied. They're blocked. Please stop telling me about it. Rest of my FAQ is under the cut >

Can I repost your work? I don't mind as long as I'm credited. I'm less okay with my work being used as a pageviews grab, but it's probably not worth my time to care. If it's something I've selected to take down and don't have posted anymore, don't. If it's something you commissioned, go for it. You don't need to credit me every time you share it. Once in a while is cool.

Are you okay with fanart? What about OC interactions? Can I post it? Sure, just don't profit off of it and please credit me. If you want to draw my OCs interacting with yours that's also fine (and fun!)- though I prefer situations where their actions make sense. Alf wouldn't make your character cry, for example. He's grumpy but not cruel. Posting it is fine. Is it okay if I take inspiration from your art and concepts? I've been in a situation in recent years where another artist has taken far, far too much. It's a subject I'm pretty burnt out on. I recently saw another artist's take on this and it looked sensible to me. I'm just going to quote theirs. I have tried to find my own words, but right now I find myself more comfortable using someone else's. "Well, if you’re having to ask me for permission, either your design is too similar or you’re being overly nervous about a normal artistic process. You’re absolutely free to use my work as a source of inspiration but I’d strongly encourage you to think about the details from my design you like most, and remix them with other concepts into your own unique take."

Taking inspiration is something everyone does, but please don't become a shadow I get bi-weekly alerts about. Ideally your pool of inspiration will be many artists and concepts re-imagined into something unique to you- and that you're being honest with yourself about the result.

Your art is being copied! / Will you tell me who the copy cat is? I get a lot of messages about this and am tired. I'm sure if my art ends up somewhere it shouldn't be or there's something really worth my attention I'll find out through friends. Otherwise, I'm just sayin' get a second or third opinion before coming to my inbox. I probably already know about it.

I sent you a message and you didn't respond. Sorry about that. I tend not to stress about messages because it can be a drain. You're more likely to get a response if you let me know from the get go what you want, but nothing is guaranteed. Sometimes I didn't see it, sometimes I got busy or forgot, sometimes I plan to do it later, sometimes I just opted out. It's not personal. Where do you Rp? Are you looking for more partners? Discord mostly. Roleplay consumes a lot of time so these days I mostly only play with my buddy Thema. I probably wouldn't have time to play, but I like to hang around people that do and I don't mind being asked. Just please don't be sad if I never get around to responding! I'm most compatible with people who are comfortable with radio silence.

Can I use your characters in roleplay/as roleplay refs? Considering I actively roleplay my OCs and there's a potential for confusion, I'd rather you didn't. Though I think there's a difference between linking to my art and saying 'this is my character', and linking to it to say 'this has the mood I'm going for, but here's what's different about my character--'. The latter is fine.

Can I make Fan OCs for your setting? Thinking about this makes me tired. Maybe I'll get to a point where I'm more comfortable later, but for now I'd rather you didn't make something directly from my worlds. But lets be real, you don't need my permission to draw cat monsters and I take a huge amount of inspiration from ancient history. Many of my concepts are inspired by things that you can read about and be inspired too. If you see something and are curious if there's a historical source, just ask. Hopefully I'll remember.

Do I have permission to draw NSFW art of your characters? No, for a plethora of reasons, some easy to explain and some not, but I probably can't stop you. Just don't profit off of it or show it to me.

Do you have a website for your OCs? I have RP pages for them scattered all over the place and many of them are outdated, but as I type this I recently put some up on Toyhouse. https://toyhou.se/GreekCeltic

Do you have a website for your comic? Sure do. It's an expensive fuck. https://catswaycomic.com/ When does your comic update? Sporadically. I work on it when I have time. My income is solely freelance commissions and Patreon- mostly commissions.

There's other places you could post your comic! Yeah, I know. I may do that someday, but for now I like having my own house, even if it's an expensive fuck. (Not really, the renewal just hits around tax time, Lol).

[docholligay]

Shamash answers: Live action, Round 2

The brief was: Overwatch thought, funny

For making me #triggered, 3rd place:

Winston and Lena take a yoga class together on a doctor's recommendation. The doctor said it would help with stress and injury prevention.They both struggle mightly, Winston with adapting the moves to his body, Lena with trying to stay focused in all the quiet. She needs the sharping thrill of a fight or all out sprint to focus, not deep breathing and incense, dammit!

@beefsaladthethirtythird I know that Lena would absolutely hate yoga, and everyone would tell her that yoga would be so good for her, and i know this because IT HAPPENS TO ME AND THEY ARE PROBABLY RIGHT BUT DEATH FIRST. You know what I hate the most? the end part? shivasina? where you just...lay there? You can't make it more difficult or anything it's just five fucking minutes of laying there.

Okay, so, I'm pretty sure I just thought of this answer and didn't actually send it in for another question but I not 100% sure. So! If I have already given this answer, apologies. Anyway! Blizzard actually exists in the Overwatch universe. They make tv shows, specifically, and when they approach OW with the idea of writing a tv, it seems like a good idea. Seems. They're generally pretty solid but the person they put in charge of the show had very specific ideas and also has a lot of pull with the studio so somehow manages to keep getting away with things. It doesn't seem like he fact checks anything. He gets their ages wrong and says something different in different episodes. When called out on it he just says he's done his research and refuses to acknowledge any wrong doing. The only silver lining is that after a while the characters of the show only resemble the real people in the vaguest possible way so OW takes to just mostly ignoring the show. That is, until he pairs has Fareeha start dating Genji, and Angela has to literally hold Fareeha back from killing him. (The lack to research is already so horrendous and fucking Genji?!?! What's even the point of people who won't do research?) Lena, meanwhile, is laughing so hard she's crying. Genji disappears and no one sees him for a month which leads to speculation that Fareeha killed him. (Lena goes on message boards under a pseudonym and proceeds to list increasingly bizarre ways that Fareeha has probably killed him. When he does eventually pop up she starts a conspiracy theory that he's actually a robot Fareeha made to cover her tracks.) The next few weeks are spent with Fareeha verbally flaying anyone and everyone she can find that has power over the show. The show has one of the bad guys kill Genji in response which Genji fans blame on Fareeha. (Lena laughs so hard she cries and adds more absurd death ideas to her post on the message board.) Angela, meanwhile, is calmly sitting in a chair sipping tea because she has chosen to ignore the show entirely, knows little to nothing of it, and until the day she dies the only thing she can tell you is that she's pretty sure Fareeha killed Genji.

@madegeeky Fareeha thinks she would be so chill about any and all uses of media to promote Overwatch, but I doubt she can handle a documentary, not to mention a show made for ENTERTAINMENT, that takes LIBERTIES, meanwhile Lena is buying her action figure and gifting it to her family, who put them in increasingly lurid situations around their houses like some sort of bastard Elf on the Shelf.

First place, for knowing exactly about the vagaries of love and terrible cooking:

Angela can't cook. She knows this. (Everyone knows this.) But when she and Fareeha move in together, the domestic bug hits her hard and she decides to start packing Fareeha's lunches. It's lunch. How hard can it be? Really. She's managed to feed herself for over thirty years. Sure she eats a lot of take-out, or simply forgets to eat, but not ALWAYS. She can do this. "It is not necessary," Fareeha says. "I can eat lunch at the Overwatch headquarters cafeteria. It is no trouble, truly the food there is rather good." (And often she ends up bringing lunch from the cafeteria to Angela, though she doesn't mention this now.) And yet. "I would like to do this for you." Angela responds. "It will make me happy, to treat you like this." What can Fareeha say to that? She acquiesces. The lunches are… not good. At all. But Fareeha eats each one without complaint, and is always sure to show Angela her gratitude. Three weeks in, Tracer (being Tracer) swipes half of Fareeha's sandwich despite her protestations. Tracer takes a big bite. She chews once… twice… and promptly gags. "What the bloody 'ell is THAT?!" Fareeha sighs. Overwatch gossip spreads like wildfire, and this is DEFINITELY getting back to Angela.

@seolh girl, you killed these OW prompts. I have my polls set so I don't see the writers until after I click on the response number--it means I can't give anyone 'a break' or anything, because I don't know who wrote what--so when i clicked on this one to reveal the numebr one place I was so happy for you. This was so funny and I enjoyed it so much.

Bonus one point for bringing up a point I've thought aout writing myself:

Tracer being forced to air travel like a regular person. The documentation for her medical equipment alone is a nightmare.

@vassekocho not just the insane process for her security check, but I imagine if they hit turbulence and stop serving G&Ts or something, she's getting up and going to the back of the plane like, "Oh I'll get meself, it's a 'andful of bumpy clouds what a load of bloody schoolgirls.' The attendants trying to tell her it could be dangerous, Lena, mid-cutting a fresh lime she stole from first class: "THIS??? Could eat a sausage roll and steer with the other 'and, in this"

[gremoria411]

*The following contains spoilers for Mobile Suit Gundam: Requiem for Vengeance*

This is a follow-up post to my earlier one covering the first two episodes of Mobile Suit Gundam: Requiem for Vengeance. I’ll link it here but I’ll probably be covering a lot of the same points

I’m also going to completely give the game away right now: I don’t find Requiem for Vengeance to be a good show. Probably the nicest thing I could say is that that the designs are nice. It has some good ideas, it just really mangles the execution.

A lot of these are notes I made as I was watching the episodes, and I specifically rewatched episodes 4 and 6, because I’ve got a lot to say about them relative to everything else.

Characters

Is the only reason they made Iria a mother so they could justify her empathy towards the enemy pilot!? Like motherhood isn’t a necessary component of caring about other humans. You can just do that.

Follow-up: Iria doesn’t really express much affection towards her actual flesh-and-blood child during the show. He’s presumably in Zeon somewhere, but he never appears except in photograph. But her actions at the end of the show….. really don’t help.

Major Ronnay’s odd. Because he kinda feels like the only sensible character/the only character who’s aware of the wider situation - the war’s starting to turn against Zeon, and shifting to shepherding his resources to compensate for disrupted supply lines feels like a good decision at this point, not picking fights with the Earth federation’s newest prototype. Ronnay also marshalls the group’s evacuation from Earth. Yeah, he’s mean to the protagonists, but he’s under a lot of stress and he’s in charge of a worsening was situation. It’s just quite odd to see the only character who indicates a wider understanding of the conflict presented so negatively. That said, it’s not like he’s really immune to the bad acting and dialogue. When talking about dead civilians in episode 4, he sounds more bothered that they died for something so measly, as opposed to the fact that they were innocent people caught up in a war that had nothing to do with them.

I really don’t like Captain Zydoss. He kinda just exists to verbally explain other characters backstories, or to tell other characters that they’re in the right. There’s no real character here. Man straight-up says: “Those soldiers? They were just doing their jobs.” That is not a line I’m really enthused about hearing in a show like this, because it makes me question what the fuck the writers were trying to say here.

I kinda already made a post about this, but I really don’t like Yuri Kellerne in this. The design’s awful, he only shows up to say to the viewers “Yeah, Iria was right, also she’s a cool dude who doesn’t afraid of anything”. He doesn’t really do anything, and it just feels like a “see 08th MS team fans, it’s that character you like!”.

To be honest, I didn’t really have strong opinions on the other characters. There just isn’t a lot there to care about honestly.

Story

Okay, so “War is Hell” just isn’t a theme here. That’s kinda the main problem. There’s no real attempt to humanise the Earth Federation or present them as anything other than largely faceless. I’ve noted before that “War is Hell” is kinda the main thing that makes Gundam work in my opinion, because it’s really noticeable if it isn’t there. It’s just a very by-the-numbers military series. There’s no real “hook” or idea that it’s putting forward. It might’ve helped if Iria’s squad mates had been better characterised, so there’d be a sense of them having actual plans beyond the war. But, ultimately, they die because of the federation’s new mobile suit - not because war is an ultimately horrifying and tragic thing. The presentation just doesn’t line up for me at all.

I do think the emphasis on the watch is good, because it emphasises that time is running out for Zeon. But it never really comes up again after the first two episodes.

The voice work really brings it down, because there’s just no way for the scenes to have any real gravitas or impact when the voices are this poor.

I think another problem is that the opening episode(s) with the Gundam sell it as a threat too well - it effortlessly wiped out Iria’s entire team, as well as numerous other Zaku’s that challenge it while Iria’s scrambling around in recovery. It shrugs off machineguns, bazooka’s, a fuel tanker…… so any attempts by Iria to bring the fight to it just feels utterly stupid, because there’s no real reason it shouldn’t just wipe out another two Zaku’s. The fight in episode 4 is particularly obvious - the Gundam just slowly approaches, it’s doesn’t exhibit any of its trademark speed and never presses the advantage. There’s never a sense that any damage dealt to it is “earned”, it just takes a hit because the plot demands it.

Okay, the dress turning to blood thing was ambitious, and if it had worked would’ve been really cool. But fabric and liquid are hard to animate at the best of times, so one to the other in a show like this was never going to pan out.

You can really tell this was made by former transformers alumni. Not that that’s necessarily a bad thing, just some of the shots are very transformers-esque.

Wait, doesn’t Iria’s comment about not shooting disembarking pilots directly contradict the actions of the federation forces earlier in the show? Also didn’t she just tell her squadmate to kill him? Oh, getting out of his mobile suit and trying to escape in order to come back in a fresh suit? Oh well, it just wouldn’t be sporting to kill him now, better let him go.

“I wasn’t aiming to take out the pilot! This is our best chance to take out the Gundam!” “At what price, lieutenant?” I dunno, two enemy combatants that were just trying to kill you? And have killed your allies? In a warzone? Seems like an odd time to develop a conscience, Iria. It’s not necessarily off-brand for Gundam, but it’s just so hackneyed. Iria recognises the Gm pilot and later the Gundam pilot as human exclusively, but the infantry and tank gunners were apparently fair game.

Follow-up: Iria also randomly spares a Guntank in episode 6. A Guntank that could very easily shoot down Zeon HLV’s that Iria is currently defending. I feel like that was unwise.

To be clear here, I’m not criticising the decision to have Iria spare characters, I’m criticising the decision to present it in this way - it causes Iria to come off as hypocritical and careless to ignore active threats, and the rationale of why she’s sparing them never comes up.

The URMC guy helps the cast attack the enemy (such as in episode 4). Doesn’t that kinda spit in the face of his neutrality?

Oh hey, I was so busy talking about the poor character writing that I almost forgot to mention the false flag operation. Y’know, that thing that is illegal under wartime law? That the characters commit when they dress up as Federation forces in order to steal the GMs? Yeah, that. Like, I know it’s par for the course in shows like this (like 0080), but it still feels odd to see it presented in such a heroic fashion. It just would’ve felt better if the characters had acknowledged that it was a sketchy/desperate thing to do (like 0080), rather than playing it completely straight.

It kinda feels like they came up with the title first, and then introduced elements to fit with it - Iria being a violinist just feels very vestigial, and vengeance…… either isn’t a theme or it’s badly executed enough that I didn’t notice it (characters talk about it a lot, but not to any real purpose).

Okay, the combination of character animation, voice work dialogue and the fact that Iria probably has a concussion makes the fact that Iria decides to pilot her Zaku in episode 6 (unintentionally) really funny. Because she’s giving this big dramatic speech with swelling music, but it genuinely just feels like this is the shock and concussion talking, so I just expect her to step on to the truck and fall flat on her face.

We can swear now, great, good for us. That isn’t an excuse for the dialogue to be as bad as it is.

Alright, I fully fell off on episode 6. I’m sorry, it crosses the line from plain old regular bad to hilariously bad for me. It’s like the hyper-realistic faces coupled with the absolutely terrible animation and voice acting just blends together into something completely farcical.

“Machineguns are not effective, aim for the treads” *continues firing*. Also, did they just forget that guntanks have missile launchers?

There’s kind of no real sense of flow to the fights either. Everything moves as fast as it needs to. Stopping stock-still in the middle of a combat zone is a death sentence, so it’s really noticeable how frequently Requiem for Vengeance stops fights so its characters can have dramatic conversations. This is very, very noticeable in episode 6.

Wait hang on. Iria: “The Earth Federation’s Won, We’re just trying to retreat, please let us go” Gundam Pilot: “Then surrender, if we let you terrorists go you’ll just attack us again later” Iria then proceeds to not surrender. Furthermore, Zeon is withdrawing military personnel and war material like mobile suits, which they will use against the Earth Federation in the last months of the war. Isn’t the Gundam pilot completely in the right here? But the presentation of the scene seems to be trying to put Iria in the right. But what the Gundam pilot’s saying is correct. Zeon did start the war, and will continue attacking the Earth. So it feels like the narrative is presenting the Gundam pilot as being in the wrong simply by their nature as a child soldier thrust into this war. They didn’t have a choice, they need Iria (who’s a mother, by the way) to tell them they have a choice. The narrative places the fact that they’re a mother and child over the fact that they share a common humanity. It’s such a stupid choice.

“Zeon forces were driven completely out of Europe and Asia” that’s a funny way of saying “we were driven off the entire Earth”.

Other stuff (mostly Setting and Visuals)

I do like the little Zaku ears, they’re nice.

So why is the character covered in highly identifiable Zeon tattoos considered for an infiltration? Just a note.

The mobile suits are pretty dang gorgeous.

The Gundam pilot has a Nintendo switch.

Sooooo…… no mention of why they’re going to Odessa? No reason that might be relevant to anything?

I will probably do a small post on Loum. Because this is gonna annoy me.

Can the Gouf’s fly in this? It’s really throwing me. Because they shouldn’t be able to, but it looks really cool? Maybe they just didn’t want to model Gouf flight types.

Yes, Requiem for Vengeance, I enjoyed the Gouf Custom in 08th MS team as well. Can I please have literally any other mobile suit. (Yeah, it’s cool, but it’s not cool enough to carry your entire show).

Follow-up: it feels like the writers wanted to emphasise that the Gouf Custom in 08th ms team could totally have beaten the Gundam if it had needed to. Like yeah, but that’s not important. The point of that scene (in 08th Ms Team) isn’t some kind of dick-measuring of mobile suits, it’s to emphasise Norris Packard’s character and skill, that he made those decisions in service to the wider objective (and to iterate on Ramba Ral and Amuro’s relationship from 0079). It’s not there to demonstrate how strong the Gouf is. I mean, yeah they want you to buy the models, but come on.

In case the ratio of criticism-to-praise above didn’t give it away, I really didn’t like Requiem for Vengeance. It just fails to engage with the theme I consider central to Gundam: “War is hell”. It also doesn’t really humanise any of the opposing side, which while not a deal-breaker, certainly doesn’t help its position. There just really isn’t a lot of character on display here, so there’s little to distract from the bad dialogue, stiff animation and near-comedically poor line deliveries. The human animation and writing really kill the series for me, since they just cripple the shows ability to deliver any kind of impact on its points. Then again, when its points are “The Earth Federation is just SO MEAN you guys”, it’s probably best the delivery’s as poor as it is. I don’t really know what the shows trying to say but it certainly doesn’t seem to be “War is bad”.

It feels like the writers were able to grasp gundam’s thesis of “child soldiers are bad”, but took that to be “people who use child soldiers are bad”, not “the circumstances that war creates will eventually cause children to take up arms for a cause they don’t fully understand, leaving them to have short miserable live of perpetuating the harm they have suffered upon others, as just one part of the horror that war visits upon its victims”. This is emphasised by the ending, which is pretty shit. Despite the opportunity to return home and retire, like multiple other Zeon aces did. Iria instead fucks off and joins the Zeon remnant in Africa, while stating that many of the other soldiers there “don’t have a home to return to, are consumed by hatred or yearning only for a glorious death on the battlefeild”. THEN WHY ARE YOU THERE. Why are you perpetuating the conflict by throwing in with remnant groups? How the hell is this supposed to prevent child soldiers from happening? Go home.

Plus, the way Zeon’s presented here seems kind of…… dishonest. Like it’s not incorrect or canon-breaking, it just seems to skirt around a lot of details in order to paint Zeon as, for want of a better term, “less evil”. So, we have characters mention The Battle of Loum, without mentioning what Loum was. We have characters note the worsening war situation, without engaging with why Zeon’s on the back foot. The characters retreat back up into space, but it isn’t stated what they’re retreating from. You’d expect someone to mention the actual wider war situation. I know they’re soldiers, and they’re likely fed a steady diet of Zeon propaganda - but then why not let us see that propaganda, note how the characters engage with it. Do they agree, disagree? Do they take it as gospel, accept that the principality is covering up some things or rage that it’s blatant lies? How does Zeon, the nation, its leaders and its governance affect these characters? The choice to completely ignore it seems wrongheaded and, as above, dishonest. There’s no hint of Zeon’s fractious command structure here, that the upper brass are too consumed by infighting to heed the wider war situation. There’s no mention of Garma Zabi, late commander of the Earth Attack Force, who presumably the characters would have a lot of opinions on. Requiem for Vengeance doesn’t exactly paper over Zeon’s failings, it just doesn’t mention them. I find it interesting that of the “big three” Zeon Earth Commanders (Garma Zabi, Yuri Kellerne, and M’Quve) we only see Yuri, who’s arguably the softest of the three. Like, M’Quve is right there, you guys. There’s even a Tony Takezaki illustration that could be used as a basis to adapt his design to the new style:

And M’Quve would have been the perfect opportunity to showcase Zeon’s fractious upper command. So his omission just feels glaring (much like the illustration). Major Ronnay’s perhaps the closest to being a member of Zeon High Command, but he’s essentially the stock “Commander whose orders the protagonist disregards” archetype. I *could* describe him as the most humanised out of the cast, but that feels like I’m reaching. There is Joshua Stein (the commander in the first episode, who originally calls the Red Wolves in), but he feels more genuinely incompetent, rather than saying anything meaningful about Zeon as a whole - his failings are more personal, rather than symptoms of a wider problem with Zeon Command (and in any case he’s only got around three scenes, so it’s difficult to glean anything from him).

Slight follow-up, but we’re also not told anything about the Battle of Odessa. I noted in my posts in the run-up to the release of Requiem for Vengeance that it takes place shortly before the Battle of Odessa, which was the big turnaround for Zeon’s fortunes on Earth, leading to a mass retreat back up into space. This is a *big thing* in the wider war, because it is where the Federation finally gets its momentum (and mobile suits) going and essentially forces Zeon into the back foot, a position they never really recover from. For all the series loves to bang on about Loum, it never mentions Odessa. Part of this is excusable - Zeon would likely downplay its loss as Odessa to keep morale high, and the characters may not have received accurate reports yet, but I’d just like someone to mention it - “seems Odessa didn’t go to plan” or just something like that. Because it’s the whole reason they’re retreating in the last few episodes and no-one says anything.

I’d ordinarily be pretty easy on the whole “Zeon’s War for Independence” thing, since it’s an example of how the populace of Zeon was motivated to fight, but it’s a lie. It’s a lie told to justify the One Year War (and subsequent acts of spacenoid aggression). Like, there’s no problem with the characters believing the lie, but presenting it completely straight feels off. Like, if there was just one instance where it was acknowledged that maybe we shouldn’t trust the motivation of the guys who declared war and dress like space nazi’s, then cool, but the series doubles down on this impression by Iria’s statement at the end that the war didn’t really end as far as she’s concerned. Again, no problem with Iria believing that, by all accounts that’s how a lot of Zeon Remnant Groups saw the situation but it just reads oddly when talking about the One Year War. It kinda makes the series feel like in-universe propaganda or revisionist history, because at no point does it acknowledge that maybe Iria isn’t that reliable of a narrator.

Iria: “and so, to prevent more children from becoming child soldiers, I became a deadbeat mom.”

So yeah, Mobile Suit Gundam: Requiem for Vengeance - the mechanical design and opening’s pretty nice, but they really can’t carry the rest of the show and over time the dull plot, uninteresting characters and awful voice acting really just sap away any initial goodwill I possessed. The fact that it seems utterly unwilling to engage with *why* the war happened and *why* Zeon lost is particularly irritating, since (by its nature as a Zeon-focused show) it’s in the perfect position to talk about those questions.

[gilverrwrites]

You like it when I’m bad

ColdFlash, 3.5K Genderbent!Barry Allen/Leonard Snart, pre-established relationship. AN: Commission for a ko-fi supporter which I had so so so much fun with, ya'll have no idea! Warnings: Restraints | Daddy kink | puppy-play | impact play | verbal degradation | crying | sub-drop |

Leonard Snart had been fighting on the side of the “good guys” for quite some time. Despite that fact, he still embodied that evocative, bad-boy flare that made Barry weak. Sure, Len had a lot of great qualities that Barry admired but there’s just something about his hard, cold, calculated temperament and that damn smoulder that has alwaysmade it hard for Barry to keep a level head.

Even after a long, stressful day, Barry can think of no place she’d rather be than on her knees, hands cuffed behind her back, batting her lashes as she nuzzles her face into Len’s crotch, silently begging for her boyfriend to offer her some form of release and resisting the urge to rub her dripping pussy against his boot. She’d been there for what felt like an excruciating length of time. The heavy metal butt plug stretching out her ass, and the cooling lube Len had coated it with only made her more and more needy with every second that passed. It didn’t help that she hadn’t cum in days. Len has been testing a theory, to see if she behaves better or worse the longer he ignores her needs but continues using her body to satiate his own.

Her breaking point comes when Len starts humming under his breath, faintly tapping his foot in time with the beat and causing the rough fabric of his black jeans to brush against Barry’s clit.

It's such a soft touch, barely causing any friction due to the barrier of Barry’s cotton panties, but it’s enough to crack her already tenuous resolve, and without thinking she bucks her hips, dragging her sex over Len’s lower leg in a series of fast and uncontrolled movements until her brain catches up with her body and she forces herself to an agonising stop, but not before Leonard takes note of her actions. 

“Watcha doin’ there, baby?” He asks in a familiar, smug drawl that brings a smile to Barry's lips in spite of her shame and has her pressing her face deeper between Len’s legs in an attempt to hide her expression.

When Len doesn’t get an answer to his question, he gently runs his fingers through Barry’s auburn hair, scratching at her scalp with his nails, just long enough to make her coo before tightening his grip and yanking her head back until she’s forced to look up at him. Frustrated, she blurts her reply; “You shook your leg on purpose!”

“Doesn’t matter.” They both know it’s a sorry excuse. “Didn’t I tell you to sit still?”

Barry continues to avert her gaze but eventually mumbles a quiet “…yes, daddy.” Only growing more embarrassed as Len pulls her further away by her hair to survey the mess she’s left on Len’s pant leg. Such a saturated stain for so little contact.

“Are you a mutt, Bar? Humping my leg like a bitch in heat?”

The way Len narrows his eyes as he speaks does a good job of disguising exactly how taken he is with the way Barry’s cheeks grow redder and redder. She’s cute, coyly shaking her head and biting her lips but there’s a glint of excitement in her glassy eyes. She eagerly pushes out her chest when Len releases her hair and begins groping her exposed breasts with his calloused fingers.

“I think you are. Can you bark for me?” He’s gentle, at first, delicately squeezing her tits and running the rough buds of his fingers around her nipples in soft, circular motions, but as Barry remains quiet, only letting out the occasional whimper or moan he gets harsher; pinching and pulling her sensitive nipples, watching her squirm whilst he offers her insults thinly veiled as encouragement. “C’mon, puppy, bark!”

“Woof.”

Her first attempt is pitiful. Entirely to human. “Dogs don’t say woof. Give it to me. Bark, bitch, bark!” 

The second attempt is much better; a series of high-pitched yapping noises, each more confident than the last and aided by the sting of Len’s nails biting into her sensitive nipples.

“That’s a good girl. Keep it up.” Len instructs, still watching and listening closely to Barry’s pitiful baying as he releases her breasts, just long enough for him to unbuckle and remove his belt before tapping it against his thigh.

“Now, normally dogs shouldn’t be allowed on the furniture, but you still need punishing and I’m feeling…” He trails off, scrunching his lips up and tilting his head from side to side as he considers his next word carefully. “fainéant. So, make it easy for me and climb up here will you, pup?”

In the blink of an eye, leaving nothing but a gust of wind in her wake, Barry positions herself over Len’s lap, her head resting face first against the couch cushions, her belly pressed into his knees, and her ass openly bared to him.

“Someone’s keen.” Len comments as he hooks his fingers into the elastic of Barry’s panties, pulling them down to expose the pale skin of her naked ass. His eyes rake over the endearing line of moles that adorn her cheeks, and the obscene string of wetness that clings to the soft fabric of her underwear which only snaps inches before Len is able to shuffle them down to her knees.  

“I am.” Of course, she’s not chomping at the bit to get her lashing, but if she takes it well and behaves just right, Len might let her cum, that’s what she’s really itching for. Just the thought of it has her on edge, and the painfully delicious sensation of Len using his thumb to drive the heavy plug between her ass cheeks temporarily deeper only makes her eyes roll back.

“How’s that lube been working out for you?” He asks her as he pulls the plug back, just far enough for the thickest part to stretch out her rim and make her lose track of any and all thoughts before forcefully pushing it back in. “Well?”

“It-I- unmm~” He repeats the process, over and over, getting her all worked up as she tries and fails not to stutter her answer. But eventually, she fills him in; how all but the lubricating effects had worn out by now, but its cold tingle had made it near impossible for her to think throughout most of the day. It was a strange feeling, not the same as when Len cooled her body down with the lower setting on his gun. Not even similar to having ice rolled against her skin and eased into her holes until they’d melted. It was foreign and familiar all at once, and she’s pretty sure she agreed to a series of chores and activities suggested to her by Cisco just because she was incapable of saying anything other than “Huh? Oh, yeaahhh.” For at least an hour.

As stimulating as it had been, it doesn’t compare to the feeling of having her ass fucked. She doesn’t have to say it, Len can sense it in her body language, and the far-off look on her face.

“What would the good people of Central City think if they could see their hero now.” Len ponders aloud, not expecting, but still appreciating the quiet, wistful response he receives.

“They’d think ‘lucky hero’.”

He laughs as he finally quits teasing her puckering hole, a short, dry, but genuine laugh, having been caught off guard by her answer. “Flattery will get you nowhere, little girl.”

Before Barry can reply, Len brings the cold strap of his folded belt down on her ass. The resulting yelp is not unlike her sorry attempts at barking only moments earlier, but the rawness of it goes straight to Leonard's already stiff cock. Barry can feel it, digging into her hip bone, it’s gratifying, but not enough to distract from the pain of the second lashing. Her nails nip into her palms as she tenses under each hit. “H- How many more, daddy?”

The only answer she gets is the sharp crack of leather coming down on her ass once more. With every swing, she’s overcome with searing pain, and redness spreads across both sets of cheeks. The shame is made worse by how it has her pussy getting wetter with every second.

Then suddenly fingers are probing her slit. Len gently glides his digits between her dripping folds, grazing her clit just enough to tease her before finding her entrance. In her heart, she’s relieved. Absolutely ecstatic that her needy pussy is finally getting some attention, but on the surface; she’s bitter. She knows his lack of communication, and his unpredictable actions are all part of the punishment, meant to keep her on her toes, but she’s still annoyed.

“Don’t act so petulant.” Len chides when he grips her face with his other hand and directs her to look at him. She’s pouting, hazel eyes fixed with a damp glare unbecoming of someone who knows exactly what she’s gotten herself into. “You like it when I’m bad.”

She does, and she’s always done a terrible job at hiding it. Starting from the day they’d met, and especially since they’d gotten entangled with each other romantically.

She could phase out of her bindings at any time, there was nothing her former foe could really do to her that Barry couldn’t stop if she wanted to. Wanted.

She doesn’t want to.

That’s a big part of what makes their relationship work, the added layer of trust and true submission. Knowing she lets Leonard bend, and break, and boss her around because she wants him to, she loves it. The humiliation of being a grown woman, a superhero, bent over the knee of a man she calls daddy, the addicting pain of having her hair pulled and her ass smacked, her holes used, the therapeutic relief of letting somebody else call the shots so she can switch off.

Not to mention authority and debauchery suits Len well, and he’s very good at it. The heart of gold hidden deep beneath his icy exterior is the icing on the cake. Barry loves all of it.

She knows all this, it’s on the tip of her tongue but between the indignity of admitting it aloud and the uncontrolled whimper each drag of Len's fingers evokes, she can’t quite get the words past her lips.

“Go on girly, admit it. You love it when daddy’s mean to you. Don’t-cha?” Even if he couldn’t feel the way her pussy convulses and leaks at his words, Len knows he’s right, and he knows from the tell-tale signs of her blushing skin, her watery eyes, and the increasing pitch of her whimpers that she is close, so he offers her a deal. “Say it, and I’ll let you cum. Right here, right now, all over my fingers. 

And like a good puppy, desperate for a treat, Barry immediately confesses; “Yes! I love it! I love it when you’re bad.”

“And you like submitting to a ‘rogue’?” He pushes, knowing that his fingers are driving her ever closer to the edge.

“Yes, yes, yes, daddy!” Barry replies frantically, she’s sinfully close, her walls growing tighter and hotter with every second, but just as her orgasm begins to ignite Leonard rips his hand away, dimming whatever sparks of pleasure there had been and thoroughly ruining her orgasm.

“You-” Her tone is anguished, eyes wide and betrayed as she stares up at Len’s amused, and smug expression. “You said I could!”

“I lied.” He replies, raising a brow challengingly. “Come on Bar, thought you’d be used to that by now.”

He fists his hand in her hair once more, painfully tugging it to lift her to her knees, just long enough for him to stand before letting her fall back, this time with her ass up higher. From this angle, Len gets a much better look at her reddened ass and drooling pussy. The urge to run his tongue along her wounds and drink up her juices is tremendous but he’s painfully hard. Practically throbbing from having Barry debased by his hands once again.

Len pulls his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock, taking the condom he’d had tucked into his back pocket out, tearing into it with his teeth and rolling it on. As soon as Len is close enough, Barry starts to roll her hips, rubbing up against him until he locks his fingers around her still-cuffed wrists and tells her for the second time tonight too; “Stay still.” before rubbing the head of his cock between her slickened folds.

Barry doesn’t have to wait long, Len is already impatient to be inside her. He finds her entrance quickly, using his thumb to put pressure on her plug as he eases into her entrance. His fingers had already stretched her out, preparing her to take the full width and length of his cock in one, slow, deliberate thrust of his hips, but not without the intoxicatingly painful sting of having her soaked walls stretched.

“Ohh, daddy.” She lets out a pained, satisfied whine at the combined feeling of having both holes stuffed certifiably full. “Thank you.”

“So polite. Finally spanked some manners into you.” Len teases but already his signature inflexion is growing sloppy, losing himself to the bliss of Barry’s pussy sucking him in, but not too far gone to give up his cool just yet. He snaps his length in and out her pussy in short bursts until she begins to push back on him, to which he halts completely, buried right to the hilt before demanding; “Beg, pup.”

Barry groans, exasperated and long past ready to be fucked at this point, but she opens her mouth to comply nonetheless until a thought occurs to her. “With… words?”

The metal of the cuffs dig into her back and wrists as Len balances his weight on the chain to lean over and kiss her shoulder blade. His shaky breath makes her hairs stand on edge. In this new position, Len’s cock and the toy between her cheeks are pushed deeper, enough to make her toes curl and her lids flutter as she turns her head to peer as she awaits an answer, but he gives no confirmation until she tentatively begins to bark again.

“Atta girl.” He applauds, rewarding her by working his hips again, releasing her hands in favour of gripping her waist. It’s heaven, how good her cunt feels around him, like she was made to take it. He’ll never grow tired of it; how she can barely contain herself at the stroke of his cock, all that training, all that self-control, gone, just for him. The way her walls clench around him, engulfing his dick with her hot, tight cunt. Len has always prided himself on keeping calm but once he’s balls deep inside his little girl, it’s only a matter of time before that composure crumbles. Regardless, he’ll drag it out as long as he can, until Barry milks it from him.

It doesn’t take long, she’s already on edge from being denied for days, so the moment Len reaches around her frame to knead her poor, previously ignored clit she snaps, her body begins to shake, a mix of excitement and desperation, the puddles in her eyes finally welling into hot tears that streak down her face as she abandons her yapping to loudly beg; “Please, please daddy, please I need it.”

“Hold. On. Baby.” His words are punctuated by deep breaths and the loud, erratic slap of skin on skin. He’s talking to himself as much as he is to Barry. “Just. A little. Bit. Longer.”

Barry does her best, biting her lip and curling her toes to try and hold it all back, but as her body begins to quake, the speed-force thrumming through her every molecule, it’s over for them both. Len snaps first, unable to refrain any longer, not when Barry’s pussy is vibrating around his cock. He’s never experienced anything like it before her, nothing so exceedingly pleasurable; a real-life, flesh and blood sex toy wringing him for all he’s worth.

Through his orgasmic haze and gritted teeth, he keeps working at Barry’s clit, the nails or his other hand digging into her waist as he hisses. “Now. Fuck. Now.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice; she’d been waiting for this moment for longer than her sex-dazed mind can recall. In seconds her twitching walls are tightening around Len’s cock, her eyes still streaming with tears, hips rolling unsteadily as she rides out wave after wave of euphoria. It keeps rolling through her, even as Len allows himself to fall forward, resting his weight on Barry’s back and placing a series of lazy, kisses on her spine as he mumbles praise to her. “That's it, Bar. That’s it, good girl.”

Biting his lip through the post-nut discomfort Len keeps fucking Barry until her whole body falls still, and a minute longer to ensure she experiences the whole thing from start to finish. His way of making it up to her for days of excruciating denial. Then he falls completely onto her back, his heavy, uneven breath tickling her spine.

Normally, Barry comes too faster than Len, not because her orgasms are any less intense, just because she’s far more used to exerting herself for extended periods of time, and usually, she waits until Len catches his breath before she makes a move, but after all that denial, the intensity of her orgasm, the emotional whirlwind, her mood has dropped and she can’t stop her body from shaking, nor the stream that runs from her eyes.

Len can see something is wrong, and he pets her back softly as he gently eases the plug from her butt. At the same time, Barry phases out of her cuffs before quickly whizzing around to burrow herself into Leonard’s chest, enveloping herself in his arms, basking in the menthol scent of his aftershave, and ignoring how her damaged skin aches once it meets the couch cushions.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Len asks, running his hand along the curve of her back as he embraces her. “How are you feeling?”

“Not good.” She answers earnestly, somehow, she feels both relieved and downcast at once, her head light but her chest tight and hollow. “But still better than I’ve felt in days.”

Despite the tears, when Barry looks up at her with her bright, puddy-dog eyes, he can see her feigning a small smile, one that grows more genuine when he brushes a stray strand of her from her face. “Then why are you crying?”

“I think it’s sub-drop.” Barry explains, words slurred by her heavy bottom lip. She’d studied it briefly in her free, how the adrenalin and endorphins can leave your body so quickly after sex that you’re left feeling wrong. Knowing what it is doesn’t help her feel better though.

“Okay...” Len takes his time to consider the new words out of his mouth. He moves slowly as he releases Barry’s body, bringing both hands up to her cheeks and wiping away her tears with his thumbs. “That’s okay. You just… feel your feelings, and I’ll be here with you, all the way.”

“Thank you.”

Immediately, Leonard rolls his eyes at her reply. “You don’t have to thank me, that’s just how this works, it’s what I’m here for.”

As always, Barry is skittish with conversations that involve her needs, and she tries to hide in the safety of her boyfriend’s shirt as she speaks once more. “I know, I just…”

“Hey, no, look at me.” Len is having none of it. Once he coaxes Barry to look to look up at him again he recognises her efforts with a kiss. Not quite chaste, but not hot and heavy. Just a long, gratifyingly affectionate kiss that only ends when Len lands a mischievous tap on Barry’s nose. “Your emotions and your needs are important. You’ve helped me to become a better man, but now you need to let me teach you how to be a little more selfish. Do you understand me?”

Despite the glint of annoyance in her eyes, she nods because he’s right.

“Good. Now, I’m going to run you a bath so you’re all fresh and clean before we put any cocoa butter on your ass. Would it make you feel better to come with me, or do you need some alone time?”

“I want to be with you.” Barry confirms, finally standing from the couch. Her cheeks start to burn red, tears drying under Leonard’s proud stare at her decisiveness, but she doesn’t shy away this time, especially not when Len lands another kiss on her cheek.

“Good. Let’s go-” Before the words are out of Leonard’s mouth, Barry is gone, leaving behind the echo of a playful laugh.

In the bathroom, she dabs at her wet face with a towel and presses her burning skin onto the cold tile for relief as she waits for Leonard to catch up.

[catgirl-catboy]

Mikan Tsumiki has Histrionic Personality Disorder

I bet you thought I was joking about typing up a whole analysis on this. Let me preface this by saying I'm not histrionic myself, so please let me know if I make any mistakes when discussing this.

This is less of a headcanon, and more of a theory due to the large amount of evidence, that being said, if you dislike or disagree with it, that's a-okay!

A nice long analysis under the cut.

To those unfamiliar with HPD, Wikipedia defines it as "a personality disorder characterized by a pattern of excessive attention-seeking behaviors, usually beginning in early adulthood" which certainly fits what we see of Mikan in canon.

Here's a screenshot for evidence:

That being said, we should point out that Mikan's behaviours in high stress situations like a killing game isn't equivalent to how she'd behave normally. That being said, lets get into the actual diagnostic criteria for HPD!

I think we can right away check off E, since deliberately falling in suggestive positions is one of Mikan's main character quirks. I could post the CG of her doing this as evidence, but lets not.

I also feel like D is another easy criteria to mark off, since most of Mikan's relationships are characterized by her desire for approval and appreciation. This is most notable with her abusive relationship with Junko, but we also see some shades of this during her FTEs with Hajime, implying it isn't specific to this bad relationship.

Mikan needs somebody in her life that forgives her existence, and every action, both positive and negative, she takes. But that isn't all the evidence that I have that Mikan is continuously seeking appreciation and approval from others, since its a large part of her talent.

A lot of ways Mikan gets positive attention from others is through nursing them back to health, and its one of the few areas in her life she feels confident in. That being said, in one of her FTEs she says some... questionable things about her patents.

And here it is again in Danganronpa S, showing it wasn't just her phrasing things oddly.

Her working as a nurse isn't completely altruistic, since she feeds off the attention and power she has over her patients.

I think that checks off "continual seeking for excitement, appreciation by others, and activities in which the patient is the centre of attention" really solidly. I have less evidence for the rest of the diagnostic criteria, but I believe they fit anyway. I feel like she fits "self-dramatization, theatricality, exaggerated expression of emotions;"

but its a bit harder to say for sure due to a lot of Danganronpa characters doing the same thing, so its unclear how normal Mikan's reactions are in her own universe.

Mikan has one of the more extreme breakdowns of the series, but she was not entirely in her right mind at the time, so idk if I should count it. She also has a very extreme shot to the heart event compared to other characters, where Hajime must propose to her to get the best ending.

Here are some quotes where she has a very exaggerated emotional expression, for your consideration. ""Ah! I-I'm sorry for laughing so suddenly! I-It's just...I can't help it. I'm just so happy, I can't remember the last time I made any friends... Ah, not that you actually want to be friends with me! I'm soooo sorry I said something so...presumptuous! I'll do anything you say... Just...please don't hate me...!"" ""Ah, so in the end...you're all just a bunch of bullies, huh? Justifying your actions with fancy words... M-Making excuses for why it's not really your fault... E-Everyone always treats me like that... Always... "It's all her fault..." "Sh-She's the one with the problem..." I...I'm done with that! You hear me!? I'm doooooooooone! It's not fair...It's not fair not fair not fair notfair notfair notfair notfairnotfairnotfairnotfairnotfair... Why won't you forgive me!? If you did something wrong...you'd forgive yourself right away...! What did I do!? Why won't anybody forgive me!?""

I also think there's a solid argument for her meeting the "over-concern with physical attractiveness." criteria! It is the main way she gets attention, after all. A lot of her comments have to do with her body, and a lot of the presents she likes are things she can wear.

So long as you belive one of the 'maybe' criteria, then she has enough for a proper HPD diagnosis.

[needlesandnilbogs]

To Show Patience With: The Character of Overse in Martha Wells's Murderbot

Overse is not a name. As it's spelled, it's a Norwegian or Danish verb that means "overlook," or it can be spelled "överse" and be a Swedish word meaning "overlook" as well. My friend, a fluent Swedish speaker, said she'd understand the meaning if she saw the word "överse" used, but she wouldn't pick that word to translate from English to Swedish.

However, the language authority for Sweden, the Swedish Academy, gives an alternate meaning to the verb "överse"; it can mean to overlook, to critically go through/to review, or to show patience with. Their example of that last meaning is "han över­såg med barnens slarv," which my friend and Google Translate both say means something along the lines of "he overlooked the carelessness of the children."

I feel at this point I should quote this friend: "The funky thing about Swedish is that it's a very word-poor language, so one word can mean a lot of different things depending on context."

Martha Wells is a pantser, she's admitted to it. I'm sure she didn't intend that last meaning. But what if she did?

Our first introduction to Overse is on page 14 of All Systems Red (all page numbers are from hardback editions), where we get "I carried Bharadwaj up the ramp into the cabin, where Overse and Ratthi were frantically unclipping seats [...] their horrified expressions when they took in what was left of my upper body through my torn suit" (All Systems Red 14). Not very patient yet, given the description that the words "frantically" and "horrified" imply. But a few pages later, Overse and Arada have stabilized Bharadwaj by the end of the ride, and in the end of the chapter she's presumably among the group worrying in the mess. Soon after, when MB announces that there's a deleted part of the hazard report, it notes that "The reaction to that in general was pretty pissed off. There were some loud complaints from Pin-Lee and Overse and dramatic throwing-hands-in-the-air from Ratthi" (ASR 29). In a traumatic situation, it's understandable that everyone is a little panicked and nobody's being patient, but Overse seems to be able to work, even when she's upset by the situation.

By the time they're thinking about going to DeltFall, we have a little more info about Overse. Arada asks about recharging at DeltFall and "Overse put an arm around her and squeezed her shoulder" before explaining (ASR 47). MB even notes that "As a couple, they were always so nice to each other" (ASR 47). Arada is a little naive about the Corporate Rim, as evidenced by her questions here, the "terminal optimist" line in Network Effect, and just everything else. Overse, however, knows what's going on, and moreover, the combination of action and words, plus MB's statement that they are "nice" to each other, combines to create a patient tone when she's explaining.

During the rest of the book, Overse mostly shows up in the group scenes, in which she's a voice for reason, if just as worried as the rest of them. She appears briefly at the end of Exit Strategy, but not for long. When she really becomes a force of patience is in Network Effect.

In the first chapter, she "would be upset if I let her marital partner get killed" and "had shouted" at MB on the comm before that (Network Effect 11-12). However, she remains calm enough to warn Ratthi to get off the comm with the raiders and prepare the facility for launch, even through her worry. Shortly after, she notes to MB that it's been really supportive of Arada and how helpful that's been, and it notes that "[Arada] and Overse had always been firmly in the 'least likely to abandon a SecUnit to a lonely horrible fate' category, which was always the category I was most interested in" (NE 40). From it, that's an impressive compliment and a sign of Overse's ability to remain calm enough to make kind decisions while under immense stress.

This is born out a few pages later when Overse and Ratthi are in the control deck during the attack on the baseship and facility. "Both looked frantic," MB says, but it also notes that "frantic was the right reaction" and that there's no comm or feed (NE 43). Immediately afterward, Arada arrives, and "Overse's face twisted with relief and she bit her lip hard" (NE 44). After knowing that her wife is safe, Overse is more able to handle the situation. She gets comm partially active another page later, handles evacuation and separation well (though she and Arada both let their protectiveness for each other and the rest of the crew override their self-preservation instincts), and comes up with the idea of getting MB and Amena into EVAC suits as well as helping "cannibalize four of the EVAC suits aboard" to stabilize the safepod (NE 135).

Once removed from the immediate stress of almost dying, Overse demonstrates the ability to control her initial reactions (she "grimaced and rubbed her eyes" at ART's declaration that it won't leave till it gets what it wants, then communicates silently with Arada) and handles ART's demands with patience (NE 140). For instance, ART says it didn't plan to attack the facility, and she responds, "But it was your idea," with narrowed eyes (NE 141). I hate to make a personal anecdote in an analytical essay, but this is exactly the attitude my mother takes when I do something and she's trying to be patient but also communicate that I did a stupid. Same thing with their next group conversation with ART, where MB notes that she has a "'let's get this over with' expression," and when they first discuss the colony, where "Her expression had that grimly frustrated quality that was common when my humans talked about the corporates" (NE 149, 155). (What I'm saying is Overse is the mom friend lol)

There are two scenes later in NE that are especially telling. The first is in chapter 10, when Overse and Arada are on the way to check out engineering.

Arada and Overse had stopped in the corridor that went toward the engineering module. Arada hugged Overse, and Overse kissed her and said into her ear, "You can do this, babe. You're a bulkhead." "I'm a wibbly bulkhead," Arada muttered. (The wibbliness was why I trusted Arada. Overconfident humans who don't listen to anybody else scare the hell out of me.) Arada stepped back and smiled at Overse. "Got to get to work." (NE 164)

In this scene, Arada is worried; she's finally letting down the mask of command and letting Overse see how worried she is in a situation that is close to private. Overse responds in a manner consistent with the mention in ASR that they were always nice to each other, but she's more than just nice. Arada is upset in a way that's likely troubling to Overse, and Overse is able to calm her, be patient with her, and make sure that she's okay despite being worried about her.

The other scene in question is the infamous bunkroom scene, which deserves a whole separate meta about what's been told and what's left missing, but the simple summary is thus: in chapter 11, Arada agrees to go over to the Barish-Estranza ship, without consulting anyone else or making an informed decision. From then on, Overse is upset. Her initial response to the idea is "Fuck no," then "there was a big human argument" and "Overse said through gritted teeth, 'Rescuing you–or trying to recover your body–will not save us time'"(NE 202-03). A few minutes later, "Overse was still mad," and apparently needs "a chance to vent and calm down," which she gets by venting to Ratthi (NE 204). MB paraphrases, so we'll never know her exact words, but she apparently ends up "being angry at herself for getting angry at Arada during a crisis" (NE 205). She's able to calm herself down and be patient long enough to work with Arada, but it takes until the next chapter for MB to notice their relationship improving. The infamous bunkroom scene is really only a few lines:

Arada and Overse were back to getting along after spending time together in an unused bunkroom while we were traveling to the dock. I hadn't bothered to monitor them on ART's cameras or try to slip a drone in; the chances that they were having sex and/or a relationship discussion (either of which I would prefer to stab myself in the face than see) were far higher than the chance that they were saying anything I needed to know about. (I mean they might have been plotting against me, but you know, probably not.) (NE 230)

What's amazing is how much is communicated in the absence of any detail on what actually happened. Overse isn't mad anymore, not necessarily because there's a way to go back or to make it better (though they do seem to have negotiated a compromise about the next stressful situation), but because she's able to look past the situation and recognize that the best way to get back to a normal relationship with her marital partner is to overlook what happened.

To overlook. It can be a very easy thing to do, to overlook and ignore someone with a smaller role, such as Overse. To oversee something, to manage a whole bunch of things and ensure all of it goes correctly. But "överse" is also to be patient with, or to overlook flaws. And that is the core of Overse's character: she is the Patient One.

Not to say that I believe in nominative determinism, the idea that people gravitate towards work that match their name (Wikipedia). Martha Wells is a known pantser, and I doubt that this was a deliberate choice on her part. But she had to have a reason to choose the name Overse, even if that was just that it was on a list of words she liked. I want to imagine that the reason is that she knew she'd made a patient character and picked a name that secretly describes a patient person.

Sources:

"Nominative Determinism." Wikipedia, 25 Apr. 2024. Wikipedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Nominative_determinism&oldid=1220754650. Accessed May 31, 2024.

överse | SAOL | svenska.se. https://svenska.se/saol/?hv=lnr114060. Accessed May 14, 2024.

Wells, Martha, and Martha Wells. All Systems Red. First edition, Tom Doherty Associates, 2017.

---. Network Effect. First edition, Tom Doherty Associates, 2020.

[seneitut]

“Gentleness”

[Part 1] [Part 2]

[Yoru/Healer!Reader]

Words: 6K

Tags: Mentions of anxiouness, bantering, technicality of the game and map Haven, fluff, blood.

[This was long overdue!!!! It took me a long while but here is the first part! Second part coming tomorrow or in a couple of days! It also has drawings uwu Hope you like em!]

Resquested by: @oyasumimosura !!

-----------------------------------------------------

Breathing in, breathing out. 

Those are the words you've been repeating in your head for the past couple of minutes, trying to focus your sole attention on breathing instead of the anxiousness wanting to consume you. 

Opening your eyes, you gaze upon your reflection in the mirror with a nervous expression painting your features. 

The eye bags under your eyes are a telltale of the poor night's sleep you've gotten, and you hope no one looks closely to you to ask about it. There is nothing you can do to mask your exhaustion and the way you look, so you bear with it, avoiding the mirror and turning to stare at your unmade bed instead.

The tremble in your hands is manageable, you think, and so is the ability to mask your stress. But not even planning out your interactions nor replies to questions that haven't been asked yet, or never, is enough to relax you.

“Hey, you alright in there?” 

The voice of Sage is accompanied by soft knocking outside your door. The concern in her voice is palpable, since you haven't showed up yet and your reunion was due almost fifteen minutes ago.

“Y-yeah! Just, um, fixing my clothes.” You reply awkwardly, giving thumbs up to the closed door and immediately absconding your hands when you realize the dumb action. Sage doesn't need to know that. “I-I'm sorry for the lateness, I'll be going in a second…or several…”

There is silence for a moment, and you worry you may have upset her for being irresponsible.

Then, she speaks again, “Mind if I join you for a little bit?”

Weighting the pros and cons, you don't let your brain finish that train of thought and act upon your want.

Opening the door is a lot less anti-climatic than you initially thought. Instead, relief floods your system as soon as Sage steps in and takes your hands into hers, caressing the skin softly with a gentle expression on her features.

“I'm here.” she mutters, leading you to the bed. “Let's breathe together, alright?”

“I've been doing that.” is your reply. She smiles.

“Good, that's good.” Her hand never stops holding yours. “Do it once more with me, indulge me?”

You nod, following her instructions until your heartbeat pumps to a steady rhythm.

The breathing sessions for your anxiety is something you haven't done together in a long while. Maybe since she left China to pursue a more fulfilling life, leaving behind many friends and family who missed her dearly, and for you to learn to live without her by your side.

The thought that you've been reunited, even under not a joyful situation, is enough to make you smile and forget about what will cement your life from now on in a couple of minutes. Having her here, holding your hands and gently massaging the skin gives you a wave of nostalgia that you cannot help but tear up a little bit.

“What's wrong?” She asks, a frown between her brows. 

“I'm just…overwhelmed, I think.” Sniffing back some tears, you give her the best smile you can offer, but it falters under so much pressure. “It’s been so long since I’ve had you by my side. And I’m so worried about what is going to happen once I step out of this room because I don’t know if I’m going to be enough for the team nor don’t know if my qualities will fit and, what if I get killed? What if I get my teammates killed? What then?”

“Hey, hey, calm down.” She manages to have your attention, cutting your rambling off. The tears that were welling up have cleared up by now, which gives Sage a sense of comfort and one less thing to worry about. “You won’t mess things up, I have full trust in you and your judgment, it’s why I brought you here.”

“But-”

“No, dear, stop there.” Sage stands up, pulling you alongside her. “You’re gonna be okay, I will make sure of it. Do you trust me?”

You nod, “Of course I do!” 

“Then believe in my words. Everything is going to be okay.”

And you do. You trust Sage's words and follow after her without any doubt clouding your mind, but nervousness.

If she says you will be okay, you believe it.

—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—

The meeting you have is brief and to the point.

Sage introduces you to Brimstone, the one who founded Valorant and the one in charge to recruit agents to their lines to protect their world from radiants who come from another dimension.

The thing about having mirrors of themselves and having to fight them till death doesn't come as a surprise; rather new knowledge acquired and something to investigate for future reference, fascinated by such a thing.

Besides Brimstone there is another agent, Viper, who seems to be part of the lead in the protocol alongside Sage. She is sharp with her words and straightforward with her expectations, upfront with what she wants you to bring to the team and communicate what's needed.

All three, despite their differences in personalities, welcome you to what's going to be your home for the next years to come.

“We need you to train constantly,” is what Brimstone asks of you. “To have discipline and focus on missions. Besides our utility, having to learn self-defense and the usage of guns is important when we are deployed to prevent catastrophes.”

Vipes joins in the conversation, “Sage has mentioned you both have trained for a long time before all this disaster. I'm expecting nothing but the same skills and more from you.”

Gulping, you nod, “Of course.”

Sage glances at you from the other side of the room, spectating the conversation unfolding, and ready to chime in if necessary to help you out.

“Good.” Viper stands up from her chair after a couple of seconds, gathering her folders and hands you a sort of phone. “First mission assigned will be tomorrow. Ask Killjoy or Cypher for blueprints and get to know your teammates and their abilities before being deployed.”

The device is rectangle and the size of a cell phone, with the screen showing your name and a code to access it. 

“Configure this as you'd prefer, the agents use this to organize and contact each other when we are sent on missions.” Viper dials a password and the screen lights up in a soft glow to show folders and a message chat box. “Set a password to your liking and bring it with you if necessary.”

Eyeing the device, you breathe out your nervousness before directing her a smile, “Thank you.” 

“That will be it.”

Viper excuses herself after that, leaving the room swiftly with Brimstone following after her to discuss some matters. 

Is not after several seconds glancing between the door to where Sage was standing that you finally crumble under the pressure and groan in despair.

“Who the fuck is Killjoy? Or Cypher, for that matter? How am I supposed to configure this to my liking if this is work related?” You begin. “I don't even know my other teammates, how am I supposed to know their abilities and learn about them in such short notice?!”

Turning to Sage, your panic heightnes, “It hasn't been ten minutes and I'm already fucking things up!”

Sage huffs in exasperation, approaching you with a grin and ignoring your stare and pout, “Unlock the device, dear. Go directly to the first folder it shows, there are basic profiles with pictures and names of the other agents.” When you do as asked, she scrolls through the multiple faces staring at you, “You don't have to learn all their names at once, it takes time to become acquainted with most of them outside missions and the base is really big for everyone to be at one place.”

“B-but how will I know which one of them is assigned on the same mission as I do?” You are becoming rapidly anxious, hands trembling and completely out of the character you introduced yourself to Brimstone and Viper.

Sage caresses your back softly, “Once we ask Killjoy for the blueprints, we can ask her to lend us the name of the agents on the team.”

You nod, exhaling a big puff of air from the nervousness. 

Opening the device, you scroll through the list until you land on the name of Killjoy. The face of a woman in black hair and bright colored clothes greets you, and is for certain you won’t be able to miss her out if you were to encounter her.

“We can look for her together, if you wish?” Sage asks, grinning softly. 

“Please?”

With her reassurance and the knowledge of Killjoy's appearance, you exit the meeting's room with idle chatting to keep your mind occupied.

Sage is kind enough to start explaining Killjoy's abilities to fill in the silence. From her techwear and brilliant brain, she is one of the top techs inside the protocol alongside Cypher who have been able to develop technology not a simple human mind would understand.

All Killjoy is able to do sounds from a futuristic world, repairing and creating with the mere tools the earth provides her.

“She created the devices, programmed the security information with Cypher's help, and repaired one of the agents on our side.”

Cocking your head to the side, you ask, “Repair as in, fixed? Operated a limb or something like that?”

Sage giggles, “No, dear, she literally repaired an agent, from scratch and missing parts. A robot, if you may.”

When you cross the threshold of the practice range, you finally understand what she meant.

“A sentient robot?!”

Behind the closed doors, you see in amazement a robot-like-human fight alongside a couple of agents against another…robot? Firing bullets non-stop and jumping from side to side to avoid the agent's offensive stance.

“Killjoy seems to be training as well.” She muses. 

You watch in silence the fight unfold, analyzing their work and action while they mesh their abilities together to defeat the common enemy. Is amazing how flawless and swiftly they move across the battlefield to look for cover or simply repositioning to counterattack.

“Found you.” 

Brimstone's voice startles you, turning around to watch him enter the room with his eyes set on what's going on behind the glass.

“We need to leave in a few minutes; Breeze and Split.” He announces. Sage nods, pointing to the range.

“Got some people on here to join in.” 

He surveys the people inside, scratching his bear in contempt before sighing, defeated.

“Tell Raze to sit this one out and bring Astra, it is time to ruin the party for these youngsters.” Brimstone motions behind you, “Yoru, you're coming with them to Split, be there in fifteen.”

You hear a scoff, “Of course you need me.”

Turning around, you see a man sitting at the edge of the glass toying with kingdom credits at the palm of his hand. He's covered from head to toe in blue themed clothes, which you find funny for someone who looks as gloomy as he does.

Is it not after you're finished eyeing him do you realize he's been doing the same to you and scoffs again, as if offended, when your eyes cross paths.

Feeling self-conscious, you avoid him entirely for the rest of Sage and Brimstone's conversation.

“I'll be leaving now, Killjoy is coming with us too.” Sage points at the other side of the room, spotting a person playing chess by themselves and wearing some set of interesting clothing. “That's Cypher, you can talk to him about the blueprints, he is a kind man, but be careful of entertaining him with your personal information.”

“Huh?” 

Sage whispers in your ear, “He has eyes everywhere, be careful.”

Bidding goodbye to Sage proves to be harder than you anticipated, anxiousness starting to consume you the moment she leaves your side at a place you have no guidance nor idea how to navigate by yourself just yet.

The moment of truth comes now, you think, when you turn around and begin walking towards Cypher. He has not spotted you yet, continuing with his game in silence, and it gives you time to think about how to approach in conversation. 

So deep in thought, you collide against a surface so hard you have to take two steps back to steady yourself. When you raise your eyes, you meet Yoru's jet-black eyes staring you down with annoyance written on his expression.

“Move away, little shit.” 

Yoru pushes you away and enters the range, not glancing back for a second and makes his way to the group gathering at the center.

When the door closes, you hear a man chuckle deeply. 

“Say now, first day and causing trouble?” Cypher turns his head, a gloved hand toying with a coin. The blue of his masked and robotic eyes are eerie, it makes you uncomfortable, “Mind if we play a game?”

“Cypher, right?” you ask. He nods at the chess board.

“Glad to make acquaintances.”

Sitting in front of him, you watch him rearrange the pieces to start over a new game. He barely glances at you when he rotates the board for you to start first, waving his hand in presentation.

“Go on, let’s see what you’re made of.”

The first few moves none of you say anything, concentrating on the game rather than the task you’ve been asked to do. Is refreshing though, having something else to focus on. 

You’re partly thankful to Cypher for not obligating you to talk, humming to himself and enjoying the game in his own  way. His moves are very calculating and thoughtful, watching under scrutinized robotic eyes your movements and choices before making one for himself.

Is not until he has you on a chokehold that he leans on his chair, crossing his arms, that he decides to speak for the first time, “You are very patient, little one.”

“Hm?” Looking up, you smile nervously at him, “Isn't this game about that?”

Chuckling, Cypher moves his king and switches places with his rook, “Most of it, yes, of course. But this game is more about analyzing your enemy rather than being patient in making your moves.”

You move a pawn, Cypher kills it with his knight. Deciding to sacrifice the queen for a play, you kill one of his bishops.

“Check.” 

Cypher hums, thrumming his fingers on the table.

“Interesting.” 

He moves his king further away, you cock your eyebrow in questioning but don't say anything. Returning your queen to the previous positioning, you begin considering your next moves when suddenly, Cypher moves his knight an inch closer to your king. 

“Check.”

Huffing under your breath, you move your king, but by the time you notice what you've done, is already too late.

Cypher laughs, moving his rook to kill your king in one swift move, “Check mate.”

Your pouting elicits another laugh from the sentinel, toying with a coin between his fingers.

“You see, you would have won that if you were a little more observing.” he says, closing the chessboard and putting the pieces away. “My moves were easily readable, and my intentions clear. You had the upper hand when it comes to quantity in pieces but didn’t use it to your advantage.”

“I didn’t want to use it and lose them.” is your answer. “Didn’t even notice the position of your pieces, only the king.”

Cypher hums, nodding alongside your words, “Interesting, why is that?”

Flabbergasted at his question, you raise a brow, “What do you mean why? Isn’t that the whole point of the game?”

“Of course, the whole point is to corner the king, right? But why do you have more pieces at play if you aren’t gonna use them to fulfill the goal?”

Cypher leans in, tipping his hat back and squinting his blur orbs, “This game is about sacrificing things intelligently to obtain what you need.”

“Isn't sacrificing an odd word to use on a chess game?” you are at a loss to what he's trying to say.

“It applies to evertything, anything!” he smiles under his mask, but you are unable to see it. “Say, are you ready to do that on the battlefield? To sacrifice people to destroy the enemy?”

Frowning deeply, you begin to question the real intentions Cypher had when inviting you to this game. All you wanted was for some information regarding your mission tomorrow, not for some psychological reading from someone who you just met.

He seems pensive and awaiting, crossing his fingers and relaxing against his chair. Gulping down, you decide you don’t want to talk about this matter and rather ask for what you came in the first place.

“Sage told me you might know about my mission tomorrow and who are those assigned,” tugging at the ring in your index finger, you distract yourself to avoid looking him in the eyes. “Do you mind giving me the information?”

It takes him a while to answer you, eerie seconds where Sage's absence feels like a sore thumb and you start doubting your place at the protocol. 

When Cypher laughs, as if you've told a funny joke, it doesn't help with your anxiousness nor quell it. He doesn't seem bothered by your reaction, either, it almost looks like it fuels him to keep teasing you to his liking.

“Haven, China.” He replies, “Viper, Skye, Phoenix and Yoru.”

“I know Viper, I don't know the other three.”

“Better time to start learning then,” he says, “Get well known with the place, too, since is going to be quite the hastle.”

Blinking owlishly, you turn on your device to look for the names of the agents mentioned, scrolling through the list until you land on Phoenix and Skye, the ones you haven't met yet, and Yoru, the recent addition to your I'm scared of them list. 

To think you will have to team up with these menacing looking people has you trembling with fear. And to top it off, Sage won't be able to help you out if you were to have doubts, so this will be all you.

“When I asked you earlier if you were ready to sacrifice people for the sake of the goal, it wasn't just to poke fun or annoy you,” Cypher stands from the chair, tucking the chessboard under his arm. “Your teammates are ready to put you on the line if it means the enemy won't steal the radianite. You have to be willing to do the same.”

“My goal is for no one to perish on the mission.” you admit, mouth tugging into a frown. “I won't play with that mindset.”

He shrugs, “Suit yourself. But think about what I'm saying. There will be a moment where you will hesitate between a sacrifice that will help you, or die being foolish.”

Walking away, he bids you goodbye, “I wish you the best of luck on your first mission. I hope you don't die.”

With the bitter farewell and an unsettling feeling starting to bloom in your chest, you are left alone with your turbulent thoughts and a bad taste in your mouth.

Sage isn't there for when you break down.

x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x—x

The trip to Haven takes longer than expected.

It’s located near the mountains in China, close to most monk temples surrounding the green area and hiding from the biggest cities. 

When you first heard about its whereabouts and the chaos that ensued when the omega agents tried to attack it, you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Horrified was a short term for what you felt when they showed the images of what was left of the ruins and what Kingdom had tried to do to extract the radianite and, later on, the omega agents.

Maybe this is the reason you were assigned to this mission; to face the atrocities the counterparts have done and want to do, and for you to protect a place that was once dear to your people.

Phoenix has sensed your apprehension when meeting them for the first time, and now he is witness to how much this first task was toiling on you. And to ease your worries and try to distract you, he’s been chatting with you since the moment you stepped on the jet, making silly jokes or bringing up different topics to keep your mind occupied.

Sadly, it seemed nothing was working, so perhaps it was better to take down the doubts from its roots.

“Seriously, girlie, by the time you have to rotate to any site, we will be done and ready to pack up and go home.” He places his hand on your shoulder, squeezing softly, but firmly. “You don't have to worry, alright?”

“Y-yeah, sure.” 

“Besides, you've got a team with the best agents at the protocol; we got you covered, aight?” 

Believing Phoenix's words is hard, but you nod anyway, thankful for his attempt to make you feel better and his constant reassurance. 

The hand that soothes your back and his warm smile is enough to calm your nerves, returning the kind smile and simply breathing to keep you steady.

From the other side of the jet, Yoru grimaces at your heartfelt conversation, finding it pointless and somewhat cheesy to try and comfort a soldier who is about to face a war they are obviously not ready for. 

Not his place to intervene, in truth, but he hopes you won't ruin this mission for any of them. It would be a pain in the ass to drag your dead body back to the headquarters and have to explain this to Sage.

“Relax that frown, mate, we haven't engaged in combat yet.” 

Skye stands next to him, a playful smile on her lips and crossing her arms. He only huffs, annoyed to be interrupted but fine enough to be talking to her.

“The newbie will probably stall us, why assign her to us?” he asks. Skye raises a brow. “We can probably bring Killjoy's turret and that thing might do more for the team than her.”

“Hey now, you are just being rude for no reason.” She chastises. “Besides, that’s a big one coming from someone who flashed the rest of his teammates on their first mission.”

Blushing, Yoru turns his head to the other side, grunting unpleasantly. “Is not my fault you don’t know how to avoid flashes.”

“Oh yeah?” Skye whistles, catching Phoenix and your attention, “Yoru here says we don’t know how to avoid flashes, ain’t that bullshit now?”

“What now?! Aren’t you the one who complains the most about my flashes here?” Phoenix leaves your side to go and defend his honor, “You are such a selfish bastard, always working on his own, tsk.”

Phoenix turns to you, pointing an accusatory finger at Yoru, “Careful tagging with him, this ass will probably bait the heck outta yo’ ass to kill the enemy.”

“Not to mention he won’t listen to any of our strategies when we get there, hah.” Skye rolls her eyes, sitting down next to you. “Say, I know you are Sage’s protegé, but we don’t know what you can do, care to fill me in? Mayhaps you can also flash for us.”

Giving a dry laugh, your eyes travel to Phoenix who is watching you with excitement in his eyes, obviously eager to listen to your answer. Yoru is glaring at you from accross the jet, arms crossed on top of his chest and just like the rest, awaiting for your reply.

“Um, I don't flash.” You tug at your cuffins to distract yourself, “I can heal, I can revive people, too.”

“You're basically saying you are Sage 0.2, right?” Yoru rolls his eyes, bored of such an underwhelming revelation. 

Phoenix slaps his shoulder, frowning, “Don't be rude.”

“Am I wrong, though?” 

“That's a poor choice of words, Yoru.” Skye chimes in. “If their abilities are similar, then we have a strategy to work around easily.”

“But I—”

“Oh yeah? The difference is way too big for you to not notice that we will be playing like guards so she can heal us. Or better yet, revive us.” The engines of the jet turns off, signaling they have arrived. “At least Sage does her part in killing the enemies.”

Before anyone could retort to him, Yoru stands and takes his vandal with him, opening the door and simply walking out.

Viper comes out of the cockpit with a bulldog in hand, mask on and a determined fierce gaze surveying her teammates.

“Is there any problem?” She asks, cocking an eyebrow. 

Phoenix huffs, shrugging his shoulders, “The usual with Yoru.”

She nods in understanding, reloading her weapon and signaling you to follow after her.

“Yoru will be taking A site with Skye, Phoenix will survey C site with me holding garage doors,” turning to you, she throws a phantom at your hands. “You will wall up B site and hold site, leaning towards A if necessary. We will defend and hold as long as we can, if the pressure gets the better of you, we will retake together.” 

“Righty-o” Skye replies. She grabs a guardian and sets off. Phoenix pats your back and gives you a thumbs up before setting off to his designated site.

Viper walks away without giving you another glance, sure of herself and the indications given. 

Despite feeling like you could trust Phoenix's words and believe in your teammates, the dread of anything going wrong clouds your mind deeply.

There is nothing you can do right now, but play your part calmly.

Haven is prettier in person, with foliage decorating part of the landside and tall trees hovering in the distance. The destroyed part of this place is painful to see, but you know there is nothing else you can do, except protect it as best as your abilities.

B site has an entrance in the middle overlooking mid and window; there are many angles to hold and so little to gamble if you were not sure of your aim. There is some reason as to why Viper asked you to wall it up and simply hold.

If the enemy were to take control of B site, the retake would be pretty difficult to handle.

“The Omega agents have landed just now.” Skye says through the earpiece. “We heard some commotion towards A short, but they haven't made their way yet.”

“Keep us updated. Let me know when to put up the smoke.” Is Viper's reply.

Breathing in heavily, you heard faint footsteps outside B site, close to window and walking towards garage doors. Your hands twiches, hesitant of walling up or simply hold an angle.

Should you warn her? Should you be saying something? The logic tells you to raise your wall to boost yourself up and peak mid, but you are terrified of facing more than you can handle.

“I heard people outside B site, Viper, be careful.” And sure enough, it is not until a few seconds later that you hear a bulldog fire and Viper's voice coming through after a few moments.

“Got the one in garage, I heard one running away. Still no sign of the spike.”

Phoenix's voice chimes in, “No one is C long either, these damn fuckers scared or something? I can start flanking them.”

“Hold your positions until we get further intel.” Viper contradicts, “We have the numbers, we don’t need to risk it. Be patient.”

A couple of seconds goes by, and from afar, you hear the hit pitched sound of a bird and popping, and from the sky, you see balls of smoke drop like bombs towards A site.

Panic seizes you the moment Skye's voice comes through the earpiece with gunshots in the background. Viper’s wall rises immediately and you lose sight of mid, frightened and alarmed that something might have happened to them.

“I’m walling up B site and helping them hold the site.” You call through the earpiece, you see Phoenix approach rapidly through C link. “Viper, are you holding garage for a rotation or will you flank?”

“I’m holding the site, go help them.” 

Phoenix nods at you, a determined expression on his face. “Let’s go.”

All that comes after that is a blur.

You remember listening to Yoru grunt through the comms, Phoenix ulting from CT when you enter the site without any regards to your wellbeing and, most of all, pain.

Is as chaotic as you might think, smokes everywhere, Viper’s screams through the earpiece, warning you about Omega Sage reviving the one she killed in garage and Viper having to back down because she got hurt.

You have lost the count on how many times you’ve been flashed by the enemy and your own teammates because you were careless; throwing yourself on the battlefield and firing bullets through the smoke to stop their advances because you didn’t know what to do. 

Once Viper’s wall runs out of toxin, you are way too deep into site to look for cover, facing both Omega Brimstone and a Sova pointing their guns at you. 

A chill runs down your spine when they fire at you, watching in slow motion as the bullets make their way to your head and you are unable to stop your demise.

You feel a tug on your waist, and suddenly, you are standing at CT while the firing continues.

A sudden wave of nausea hits you, losing your footing and landing against a firm chest for leverage. Looking up, you see Yoru frowning at you, arms holding onto your waist and barely being able to hold his own weapon to steady you.

“Get a grip of yourself, we need to get back there.” he exclaims, but doesn’t pushes you away.

Phoenix returns right at that moment, his ult running out of time and been able to restore to full health once again. 

When he sees you two standing there, he immediately panics.

“Skye is alone out there!” Reloading his gun, he pushes through the smoke. 

You grip your phantom, thanking Yoru with a soft whisper and following after Phoenix to try and help Skye out before it is too late. You hear his teleport, guessing he’s throwing himself into battle once again.

You follow after Phoenix through the smoke and, to your horror, he serves as a shield when Omega Reyna swings from A short, injuring him heavily but giving you enough time to use him as a distraction to kill her.

Running past him, you clear as many corners as you can until you reach A long to see Skye protect Yoru from Omega Sage and Killjoy, headshotting her and watching the body fall to the ground with a loud thud.

When you realize both Skye and Yoru relax their stances, you think you can finally breathe in peace.

The enemy has fallen, and Valorant protocol is victorious once again.

Walking carefully around the bodies, you approach Yoru who hisses in pain when Skye helps him stand up. He mutters something in his language that neither you nor Skye understand, but the japanese man doesn’t bother to say further.

Eyeing Skye, you notice she seems unscratched despite putting herself on the line bravely, barely one cut above the eyebrow but nothing to worry about. 

Sighing in relief for her safety, you turn to Yoru, raising a hand and laying it on his cheek that has an open wound bleeding. Besides that and a limp leg, you think you have enough energy to heal him and look for Phoenix afterwards.

But either he misinterpreted your actions or didn't need the help, he cowers from your touch and swats your hand away, scowling.

“Don't touch me.” He snarls while glaring down at you. It makes you freeze instantly.

You are suddenly reminded of your first meeting and his obvious disgust towards your person, backing away until there is a safe distance between you two and Yoru drops his defensive stance.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” you say.

Turning around to avoid eye contact, you walk towards where you last saw Phoenix to give your assistance. The poor man has his back against the graffiti wall, sitting on the floor and taking big intakes of air to regulate his breathing and not succumb to the agony.

There are bullet holes framing his arms and one near the stomach, causing him pain and discomfort if he were to move too much. His expression is nothing short but misery, trying to play it cool by smiling at you but you know better, brushing part of his hair off his face.

“I'll look for Viper to heal her, think you are okay with Phoenix?” Skye's hand lands on your shoulder, startling you. Yoru is behind her, blood dry but not a single scratch on him. “Yoru is patched up, so don't worry about him.”

You nod, “I'll take care of Phoenix.”

Once Skye leaves, you return your attention towards Phoenix wounds and lay your hands on his arm and one on his stomach, wincing when he whines and tries to back away from the pressure.

Your hands glow a soft cyan and you close your eyes, concentrating your whole power on those zones alone. The both of them watch with different layers of wonder the injury being healed instantly without leaving any trace of scars. 

Only the fabric of his jacket is damaged beyond repair, blood still staining the fabric and part of his skin, you only hope Phoenix forgives you for not being able to fix that.

But it doesn't seem to be his concern once you're done and subtly look at him for approval, biting your lip in nervousness and awaiting his reaction.

Phoenix turns his arm around for a second, flexing his fingers to notice that not even the injury was gone, but the pain on his whole arm has been washed away as well. 

He watches in amazement the last remaining of light coming from you before pouncing on your form with delight.

“Girl, you shoulda told me you were this impressive with the healing!” his arm goes around your shoulder, giving you a playful squeeze while grinning. “Did you save Yoru's ass too? Thank you!”

You only get to nod, smiling softly at his enthusiasm and feeling your face warm with his attention.

“Yoru didn't want me to touch him.” You can feel the japanese man's eye burning at the back of your head, but ignore him to keep talking with Phoenix. “And I guess Skye's healing is better than mine, so I couldn't offer assistance.”

“Nah, it's aight, girlie.” Phoenix winks, getting closer to whisper in your ear, “Yoru likes natural healing, either way, don't take it personal.”

Suddenly, the British boy is ripped away from you. You watch, to your horror, Phoenix getting punched right on his face.

You watch as he falls to the ground, groaning in pain and caressing the tender skin affected and getting swollen as the seconds passes by.  When you redirect your attention, Yoru's face is morphed to what could be described as pure annoyance and anger, breathing in heavily and scowling at his friend sprawled on the floor after taking the hit this easily. 

You don’t know whether to intervene or let them resolve this problem by themselves, but seeing as Yoru approaches to keep this onslaught on going, you decide is best to de-escalate things.

Standing up from where you sat, the best course of action is to ignore Yoru and simply help Phoenix get to his feet and lead him to the jet to reunite with your missing teammates. 

Phoenix lets himself be handled by your caring touch, apologizing when your hand hovers over the skin of his cheekbone and for troubling you. You bite your tongue, swallowing back words of reassurance to him but indirect blame to Yoru; the least you want is for him to look for a reason to fight you, too.

“It's just swollen up, I can heal it once we are on air, is that alright?”

“Yeah, no problem!” He seems ruffled and a bit flustered, but grins as if nothing has happened. 

Taking Phoenix by the arm, you don’t dare to look back and guide him to the jet. If Skye and Viper are awaiting your arrival you’re not sure, but anywhere is better than hanging in the bad atmosphere Yoru has created.

You cannot wait to get back to the base and sleep the day away.

[kipperlillyforpresident]

FAQ / about

I had so many feelings about KLCK that I decided to make this blog to contain them. I genuinely really like her as a character and I've been really bummed out by how a lot of fans talk about her, so here I am.

A self-indulgent FAQ about my thoughts on KLCK is under the cut. You are under no obligation to read them, obviously. But hey, in case you're wondering about the nitty-gritty of my emotions - go on ahead!

q: You know she killed people, right?

Yes. She is being infected by a god of rage and also a lot of our favorite loveable characters have ALSO done murders and also god forbid women do anything <3

q: Strawman question about the affirmative action/DEI hater Kipperlilly interpretation - what do you think of that?

I think that canonically, within the lore of D20, halflings are a colonized race who are seen as a "model minority", and I think it's a little tasteless to go that angle with her character. Purposefully calling this one a strawman question because I admittedly cannot be unbiased on this matter.

q: Don't you think it's fucked up that she was jealous of Riz's dad being dead?

yes of course it was fucked up thats the point thats what makes her INTERESTIING

Also, I must stress this: she told Jawbone about this jealousy in a private counseling session. You know. The place where you are supposed to work through your worst intrusive thoughts.

Finally, my dad died when I was 17, so I'm giving her permission to indulge in this fantasy. Guys its fine its fineeee SHE CAN RECLAIMM

q: Do you think she's right about literally every single thing?

No of course not. She's so wrong. That's what makes her interesting.

q: Do you really think she should be the student body president?

From an in-universe perspective? no she is being infected by a god of rage <3 from a storytelling perspective? absolutely. i've found kristen's campaign to be the weakest and most frustrating arc of this season by far, and i think it'd be narratively hollow for her to actually win after All That.

q: Wait, you hate Kristen's campaign? Is this a Kristen hate blog?

Yes I do, and no it is not! Kristen is an interesting case, because I really do find her interesting from an in-universe perspective. At times, I think she can be one of the most tragic and complex characters. She is just a teenage girl who has had far too many burdens placed upon her!

But when we look at Kristen as the sum of her parts, as a player in the narrative... I'm not a huge fan of a lot of the choices Ally has made. This is supposed to be the season where chaos stops being cute, and as we rapidly approach the finish line, I still don't see that promise being held.

(Also, I hate to have to pre-emptively do this defense, but: I literally have ADHD. I am aware that Ally is playing Kristen as somebody with ADHD. That doesn't change my perspective on much.)

q: What does it say about you that you preemptively made this defensive FAQ?

That I like to hear myself talk too much, and that I have engaged in far too much discourse in my youth.

q: What is your main blog?

@mozukumi :-)